Bite Me, Mark Me, Never Ever Lose Me
by I'mtheAlphahearmeRoar
Summary: Stiles wants the bite. Derek's not sure if he should give it to him or not. Because being an Alpha's mate comes with baggage. Some of which Stiles, as a newly turned werewolf, might not be able to handle. dark!Stiles. were!Stiles. angsty!Sterek
1. Chapter One

"Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"I, um... uh... I - I want the bite."

Derek froze, hand that was lightly running through his mate's hair coming to a stop.

Stiles turned in Derek's arms, laying his head on the Alpha's chest so he could stare up in his hazel eyes. "I want the bite, Derek. I want to be like you."

"Stiles, I don't know," Derek sighed, tightening his arms around his mate's waist.

"Why not?" Stiles frowned. "I thought you wanted me to be like you."

"I do, bu-"

"And then I wouldn't be this fragile and breakable. I'd be able to withstand your wolfy strength in the bedroom too," he smirked.

Derek choked on his own breath. "WHAT," he spluttered.

"Oh, I know you hold back Hale," Stiles laughed.

"I do not," Derek huffed.

"Yes you do. I remember numerous times when you wouldn't fuck me harder because you were scared you were going to hurt me."

"..."

"Okay I may have went a little..."

"Extreme?"

"Yeah," Stiles chuckled. "But," he put a hand on the Alpha's forearm, "I'm not kidding around, Der. I want it. I want the bite."

Derek thought about it, sighing shakily.

Stiles wanted the bite. _The bite_. The thing that would either turn him into a terrifying beast that unleashes its full _monsterous _power every full moon, or kill him. And he was an Alpha's mate, too. Even more of a worry if this bite would take.

Fuck. Derek couldn't... Derek couldn't do this.

"Stiles, you need to think about this," he said softly. "The bite... the bite sometimes takes. But sometimes it doesn't. It's a risk. A _huge _risk. You can't just jump into this as easy as you want to."

Stiles frowned. "You said the bite was a gift. Why wouldn't you want to share it with me?"

Derek sighed, exasperated. "The bite _is _a gift, Stiles. But only if it _takes_."

"Yeah, fine, okay. Cool," Stiles huffed, unravelling Derek's arms off him and rolling over, back to the Alpha.

He didn't turn back around.

Derek ran a hand through his hair, feeling his wolf whine. Oh ho. It knew the trouble they had just stumbled across, and it also knew.

Their mate wanted the bite.

And he wasn't going to let up without a fight.

* * *

**_Okay guys, that was just a short sample here._**

**_If I continue, chapters will of course be longer._**

**_This story will be leading into very dark territory. It will be the first time I have ever tried to write anything like this. It will very likely be dark, angsty, and may have some horror with a bit of dark!Stiles and were!Stiles in later chapters._**

**_So... yeah. Reviews mean a lot. Like a whole whole lot. I'd really love to see if you guys are interested in this. Because I am super excited! Ha ha._**

**_I would love to continue writing this knowing people will be hopefully following it :)_**


	2. Chapter Two

**_Tha_****_nk you to all the feedback. A very happy writer dwells here :)_**

* * *

The next morning Derek woke up to an empty bed, covers having already been shucked off and the spot beside him (where Stiles usually slept, cuddled up to him, not getting up until Derek was fully conscious too) was cold and abandoned.

He listened to the noises around the house, sniffing a little to try and catch scent. He could hear trees rustling from outside, leaves blowing in the wind, and the old worn and wooden structure of the house creaking... but no heartbeat. There was no scent either; just pine from the trees, mold and dust from the house, and the familiar smell of forest air.

**_Mate not here. Mate gone. We need mate. Need mate. Have to find mate. Find mate._**

Derek's wolf was whimpering and whining, clawing inside him in panic that their mate wasn't in hearing or scenting distance. Which _shouldn't_ be possible. They had very keen senses; a heartbeat was distinct, and a scent was even more distinct. Their mate must be very far away for them not to be able to hear or scent him.

It was at that moment though, a heartbeat suddenly picked up. His wolf sensed it almost immediately. It was erratic, fluttering to an offbeat hummingbird rhythm.

Then there was a yell. Short and clipped, like it had been cut short. But what Derek heard of it before it left as soon as it had come, was the familiarity. He knew that voice.

Lastly, there was scent; pure and strong, reeking of scattered emotions, some being more distinct than others.

The one's that he could smell the most, though...

Pain and fear.

**_DANGER. BAD. MATE SCARED. MATE HURT. FIND MATE. NEED TO FIND MATE._**

Alarm bells were ringing through Derek. His wolf was now rabid, howling and trying to break free, intent on finding their mate. Who was in danger. Who was hurt and scared. In the woods. Alone. Probably dea-

"No..." Derek shook his head, breathing ragged and forced through clenched teeth as the wolf inside him shook his whole body, limbs trembling. "NO!" He roared, with eyes flashing like molten lava as the beast took over everything, nothing but hot blooded rage left coursing through him.

Animal instinct was driving Derek forward as he pounced off the bed, leaping down the stair banister and bounding off into the forest on all fours, roar shattering the peaceful serene silence as he shook his bristled fur out, body fully shifted.

* * *

Stiles had woken up in a pretty shitty mood. Derek had denied him the bite last night. He was not a very happy Stilinski. Instead of staying in bed with Derek like he always he did he kicked off the covers and got up, slipping on his jeans, shirt and hoodie before leaving the house.

His Jeep was parked out the front. He considered going home to his dad's but then remembered that the Sheriff was working the early shift this morning and would be at the station or elsewhere, not at home. So he decided to take a wander in the woods, hands stuck in his jean pockets and lips parted slightly as he quietly hummed a tune under his breath.

It hadn't been long, about 15 minutes, when Stiles sensed he was being watched. There was that creepy feeling that there were eyes on him, the chilling sensation of something breathing down his neck. The crunch of the leaves under his feet was distracting him enough from the feeling and he focused his attention to the way they crushed under his sneakers, nothing but crumbled fragments.

But then he heard a different crunch of leaves. Louder. _And _behind him.

Stiles froze, breathing stilled and posture straight, not moving an inch of his body. He could hear something, a low purring sound; it reminded him of a cat. But _no_, this sounded way deeper than any cat he had ever heard. The purrs lengthened to growls, then ended in hisses. Quick, sharp hisses.

"_Puuuurrrrrrrr_."

Holy fuck. That was _definitely_ a purr.

Stiles cursed silently, eyes clenched shut as he slowly turned around. After a few more seconds of listening to the freaky purring he piped up the courage to steal himself a glance, opening one eye and then when he saw nothing (huh?) he opened the other.

"Must have been nothing, m'probably just going crazy," he muttered, shaking his head as he turned around.

Wrong. Move.

As soon as Stiles turned his back he heard a rustle, like something had leapt out of the bushes, and then a loud thump followed up by a fierce growled hiss.

Stiles shrieked (it was manly! yes. oh so very manly and no-one will prove it any different) and turned around, amber eyes wide when he caught sight of the monstrosity of a creature that was standing in front of him, hunched down and ready to pounce.

It was a cat. A motherfucking freaking _huge _feline. Its fur coat was a cobalt grey, bristled up all over like a cat's when it's pissed (which, _fuck_, yeah this one obviously was). Its eyes glinted a bright emerald, both ears matted down on its head and tail flicking from side to side as it hissed, fangs bared.

"Whoa, uh, h-hey kitty," Stiles stammered, hands out in front of him, held up in defense. _Show the thing you're not going to hurt it. Maybe it will leave poor old Stiles alone._

"_MMRRRAAAWWWHHH!_"

Ooookay. Maybe not.

"Okay buddy, this is going to go _very_ smoothly. You're going to stay there, all hissing and – _no_, you stay there. Yeah, _there,_ stay th- _no_, don't – _stop moving_ and just stay – okay so you're gonna just walk right up and – oh, that – that's cool, you're going to – ahhhh, _yeah_, you're getting very close now so maybe you'd want to – oh wow, you're _still _just gonna keep going then, huh?"

Stiles took a few steps back as the huge cat (were-cat maybe?) advanced on him, hissing and making the same low growling and purring sound from before. He knew that if he didn't get out of here this feline would try and take a bite out of him or tear him a new one and – yeah, he didn't want that.

"Look, this is starting to feel very – _whoa_! Okay, growling at me is not ni- aaaannnd you don't care. _Great_," Stiles groaned, and backed up a bit more, gaining even more distance away from the were-cat, trying to settle his stupidly beating heart that was probably a signal to any werewolf that there was a scared and terrified human out in the woods.

He just hopes Derek will hear his heartbeat and come to the rescue.

"_Mrrrawwwwhhh_."

"Okay, could you stop that? I know you don't like me, it's clearly obvious that you don't, but, just, stop _moving_ and leave me alo- _yikes_!"

Stiles jumped to the left, evading the pissed feline as it leapt forward, hissing and growling, claws out nice and sharp. The were-cat landed only a few meters away from him, back arched and tail flicking to and fro violently.

"A protective Alpha mate would be _kinda_ awesome right now!" Stiles yelled, back against a tree as the were-cat started advancing forward again. It was getting way too close now. Any more closer and it would be in perfect range to swipe a claw and rip his throat out. Which _really_? If that was going to happen, he'd very much prefer Derek with his _teeth_ than this feline with those sharp and freakishly large claws.

"_Puuuuuurrrrrrrrrrr_."

"Okaaaayyy and we're back to the purri- _ah_!" Stiles clenched his eyes closed as the were-cat hissed in his face. Yep. _In his face_. It was up close now.

**_"Do you wish to have the bite?"_**

Whoa. That was definitely a voice. What the hell?

Stiles opened his eyes, slowly at first, not sure what to expect. He at least expected a claw to his throat. What he didn't expect was to see the were-cat sitting there, tail flicking to and fro, but at a leisurely at ease pace, emerald eyes glinting (was that curiously? yep. it was. fuck.)

"W-What?" He managed to squeak.

The were-cat did what Stiles referred to as something like a sigh, tail flicking to the right sharply like it was irritated.

**_"The bite. Do you wish to have it?"_**

"Y-You mean _the bite_. Like, for a were-cat?"

**_"Yes."_**

Stiles eyes widened. "That means I'll become one of you."

The were-cat hissed, eyes narrowed. Stiles flinched at its aggravated tone.

**_"Yes. It does. Now do you want it or not?"_**

"Uh, n-no thanks. I'm good," he chuckled nervously. "I've kinda got a mate. He's gonna give me the bite himself soooo… yeah! No worries."

The were-cat sniffed at his neck. Stiles shivered, gulping as the feline smelled him. It suddenly shook its head, ears matting down on its head and fur bristling as it moved backwards, away from him.

**_"Dog. You smell like dog."_**

"Dog? Hah, hah. Really?" Stiles laughed.

The were-cat growled, not happy.

**_"Yes. You stink of mutt. What is it? A werewolf?" _**It sniffed again then shrank back, disgusted. **_"An Alpha? Your mate is an Alpha?"_**

"Um, uhhh, y-yeah. So, _ahem_, you don't really need to bite me. I'm already Alpha property so you can just, you know, back off, heh."

The were-cat's ears perked up then and Stiles couldn't help but notice how it looked like the feline was grinning like a freaking Cheshire cat.

**_"Actually, I think I may bite you after all. An Alpha's mate would be very valuable to me. I might even mark you as mine after I turn you. Then you'll be my mate. Not that fucking mutt's."_**

Okay. No. This was _not_ on.

"You even think of getting those fangs anywhere near me and I will scream so loud I can guarantee you that my mate will come and tear you to shreds," he snapped.

The were-cat just purred amusingly.

**_"Oh, so your big mutt will come and save you huh? What's he going to do? Play fetch?"_**

"No. He'll rip your fucking throat out. With his _teeth_," Stiles growled.

The were-cat hissed, emerald eyes darkening.

**_"Is that so? Huh. Well I guess I'll just have to rip his mate's throat out first, then won't I? Oh wait. I remember." _**It prowled up to him, purring. **_"I have to bite you, don't I?"_**

"NO! STAY THE _FUCK_ AWAY FROM ME!" He yelled, throwing out a fist and punching the were-cat in the nose.

The were-cat hissed, spitting angrily and fur bristling.

**_"Shouldn't have done that, kid. Now I'm really going to kill you."_**

Stiles didn't have time to jump out of the way this time as the were-cat swiped a paw, claw ripping through his hoodie and into the flesh of his abdomen, and he could literally _feel _the skin shredding like ribbons. He cried out, pain flaring as he saw blood soaking through his shirt. He put a hand to his side, feeling the wetness of blood as it came pouring out in a heavy stream, the red substance sticking and vile on his hand.

"F-Fuck!" He swore, gasping. His legs felt all wobbly and numb like jelly, and his knees gave way as he collapsed to the ground. He threw his head back, breathing ragged as he felt more blood draining from his body through the wound. He risked a look, peeling back his hoodie.

He gasped when he saw the damage. The skin had been shredded, blood leaking through the three claw marks that were ripped through his flesh. He could see something white under all the blood, feeling like he was going to faint when he realized that it was a rib poking out.

**_"Think your mate can save you now kid, huh? You won't last. At the rate the blood's leaving your body, you'll be dead before that fucking mutt even gets here."_**

Stiles wasn't sure when but one minute the were-cat was grinning triumphantly, pointed tail flicking to and fro in a prideful manner, and next it was being pounced on, tackled to the ground by a huge black wolf with strikingly familiar red eyes.

The wolf roared, midnight black fur bristled up like sharp spikes as it bore down, mussel ripping into the were-cat's neck, shredding the fur and flesh like it was a chew toy. The were-cat snarled, whimpering as its neck was torn open, blood gushing out like a stream of red wine, eyes flashing from bright emerald to an oceanic blue.

Stiles couldn't focus and his breathing was coming out in short irregular pants. He could feel blood welling up in his throat, the only thing coming to mind was that the claw must have also ripped up one of his lungs. He coughed, feeling blood on his lips and seeing it in little flecks, like rose petals on his hand, as he wiped his mouth. Yeeeeaaah. Definitely a lung.

"D'rk," he choked, eyes fluttering. He could just make out the wolf, now sitting on its haunches, mussel covered in blood, the pure red substance dripping from its fangs and staining its white teeth beautifully. He looked down to the were-cat which _holy fuck_ – was not a were-cat any more.

It was a man.

He seemed to be in his early 30's or late 20's. Dirty blonde blood stained hair matted his head, azure eyes cloudy, staring up at the sky dull and lifeless. The guy's throat was gone. _Literally_. All Stiles could see was the bone under the torn away flesh, and even the bone had been snapped in half, angling the head to the side in a way that made Stiles feel even more nauseas.

"D'rk, p-p'lse." He coughed again, blood dripping from his lips, the acidic rust taste filling his taste buds with spiced vulgar flavour.

The wolf's head suddenly turned towards him, red eyes burning like a blazing inferno, the blood still dripping from its fangs making it look terrifying, like a fierce predator. The sound it made next though, abused that fact well and truly. It gave a loud unearthly whimper, bounding over to his prone body. He could smell the blood reeking off the wolf's fur as it sniffed at him, at his abdomen, whining softly in its throat like a kicked puppy.

"D'rk, h-ha, s-s'tp be'ng a s-sook," he chuckled, raising his hand weakly and laying it on the wolf's fur, fingers petting the soft black bristles.

Stiles saw the wolf shift before his eyes, black fur receding into skin and bone, body taking human shape. Naked human shape. Heh. Naked. His last moment on this planet will be with a hot naked werewolf. Oh, what sorta luck is _that_.

"Stiles_, please_, stay with me Stiles," Derek pleaded. Stiles managed to keep his eyes open, looking into wide panicked hazel. He could feel the blood still leaving his body, leaking from his wound in a now slow steady stream. He knew he wouldn't make it. He'd already lost too much blood.

"S-S'rry s-so'r w-wo'f but 'm n-n't g-g'nna m-m'ke it," he said weakly, stroking his hand through soft black hair; he could feel the blood matting it.

"No," Derek choked. "Y-You're going to be _fine_, Stiles. Don't give up. You hear me? Stay_ with_ me."

Stiles laughed, though it cut short and he ended up coughing, blood once again leaving rivers of red to run down his chin. "T-T'ld ya 'm b-br'kble." He groaned, hissing when pain flashed through his ribs. His breathing exhilarated, tiny pants leaving his lungs, and he knew that he wouldn't be here any longer.

"_Stiles_! Stiles, no! Stay with me!"

Huh. Why was Derek yelling? His eyelids fluttered and he felt his body growing numb, fingers that were running patterns through Derek's hair barely able to keep up in their light strokes.

He couldn't hold on any longer, needed to give his mate a proper goodbye. With the little strength he had left he pulled Derek's head up, not giving the Alpha time to react, just pressing his lips to the wolf's gently, the hand in Derek's hair petting softly. Stiles felt the Alpha respond back and tightened his grip in Derek's hair, opening his mouth to feel the wolf's tongue lightly stroke across his own.

Soon even kissing was an effort and he could barely keep his mouth attached to the Alpha's. All he could do was lean his body weight against the Alpha, head lolling to the side so his and Derek's cheek were touching.

"L-Love ya D-D'rk. D'n't e-e'vr ch-ch'nge s-s'or w-wo'f," he whispered, pressing a last soft kiss to the Alpha's cheek.

The last thing Stiles heard before his vision blurred and mind went fuzzy, body sinking into the numbness, was a loud and mournful howl.

* * *

Derek howled.

After those last whispered words Stiles' body had slumped against him, head lolling on his shoulder, breathing stopped and heartbeat silent.

**_NO HEARTBEAT. NO BREATH. NOTHING._**

He choked, body trembling. His wolf was howling and snarling inside him, clawing to get out. Their mate was gone. _Dead_.

**_MATE DEAD. MATE GONE._**

"_STILES_!" He screamed, voice hoarse as he sobbed, hands clutching his mate's hoodie which was soaked with blood, the pungent scent the only thing he could smell. Everything reeked of it.

**_THE BITE. A GIFT. MATE WANTED. GIVE MATE GIFT. BITE._**

Derek froze, his wolf's howls and snarls turning to cries, _pleads_.

"Stiles," he whimpered, burying his head in his mate's neck, breathing in his bloodied scent. "I – I'll save you."


	3. Chapter Three

**_Thank you for the feedback. Glad that people are enjoying reading this. I very much enjoy writing it :D_**

* * *

When Stiles woke up, his mind was all blurry and hazy. His body felt _wrong_, like there was something not the same about him, something _different_. His skin felt too tight, too _hot_, wrapped around his bones; muscles twinging inside him on every limb (though it was mostly his fingers and toes. huh. weird) and his head was either on the verge of exploding or imploding (his luck it would probably do both).

He could hear his own heart beating, _a little bit too loud_, in his sensitive (when he says this, he means _really sensitive_) ears. When the fuck did he gain this new sensitivity? Sure he's human and (damn it all to hell) _sensitive_, but come on! This type of sensitivity is wacko crazy. Only supernatural creatures have this kind of stuff...

Oh shit.

Supernatural creatures have sensitive hearing, sensitive sme- wait, has he checked his smells yet?

Stiles does.

He can smell... Oh wow. He can smell pine, wood, dust and mold (ewww) and - mint? Mint. Huh.

Wait, this means...

Fuck.

H-He can't be... can he?

He didn't _actually _get bitten by that were-cat, right?

But then snippets flooded his mind, and he remembers.

_"Stiles! Stiles, no! Stay with me!"_

Had he died?

Then there had been Derek's howl. He'd heard it before he had...

_The last thing Stiles heard before his vision blurred and mind went fuzzy, body sinking into the numbness, was a loud and mournful howl._

Oh... Fuck no!

Derek had bit him. There was no other explanation. He was a freaking werewolf now. Fu- wait a second. H-He was a werewolf! Derek... Derek had _finally _given him the bite. Sure it may have been to save his life, but still, he had been given _the gift_!

Stiles felt his heart rate pick up, the sound continuously going _tha-thump tha-thump tha-thump _even more loudly in his eardrums. He could feel his muscles move, slight curls of his fingers and toes, little twitches of his arms and legs, then short flutters of his eyelids. It was like a new experience. A new awakening.

But when he opened his eyes...

All he saw was red.

All he could feel was rage.

And all he could smell was **_ALPHA_**.

* * *

After giving Stiles the bite Derek had picked up his mate's body, carefully cradling him in his arms, before running back to the Hale house. Derek lay him down on the bed, brushing a hand over Stiles' face, fingers stroking his forehead. He then sat in the chair beside the bed... and waited.

...

It had been almost two hours of Derek sitting there, twiddling his thumbs, wolf inside him pacing restlessly and whining, scared their mate wasn't going to pull through. _He_ had hope; hope that Stiles' body would accept the bite and that it would _take_. But his wolf, his wolf wasn't that easy to convince.

**_MATE NOT RESPONDING TO BITE. TOO LATE. GIFT BROKEN._**

"Shut up, shut up, shut _up_." Derek rubbed his temples, closing his eyes. His wolf was out of control, wouldn't leave him in peace, wouldn't stop building up the doubt that Stiles may not _respond_. He knew it. He knew Stiles could do it, knew he could pull through the transition.

He just had to try and give his wolf a little hope, to believe as much as he did.

...

Eight more hours passed and now Derek himself was beginning to lose hope. Stiles had not shown any signs that the bite was working, that it was _taking_. His wolf had now settled to curling up in a ball, head laid down on its paws and eyes sad, whimpering softly like a small abandoned puppy. Derek had to refrain everything in his being to not whimper along with it.

But then he heard it.

_Tha-thump_

_Tha-thump_

_Tha-thump_

His wolf perked its head up, eyes flashing, body jolting into a pounce-like position before it began running in circles, tail wagging happily as it howled.

**_HEARTBEAT. MATE ALIVE. BITE WORK._**

Derek on the other hand, this time did _react _to his wolf's emotions. His hands which had been tightly fitted together in his lap were now shaking with relief, stony expression taken over by a huge grin.

_His mate was alive._

_Stiles was okay._

Derek stood up, whole frame trembling with anxiousness, as he made his way to his mate. He had barely taken two steps forward when the body on the bed jolted awake, eyes snapping open.

The grin slowly slipped off Derek's face, happiness taken over by dread as he saw himself staring straight into two strikingly red amber eyes.

"No," Derek muttered, shaking his head. "S-Stiles no."

_This wasn't supposed to happen._

* * *

_"No... S-Stiles no."_

He didn't know why this Alpha was calling them Stiles. What was that? A type of _body spray_?

**_THIS IS AN ALPHA. HE IS ALPHA. ALPHA. ALPHA HERE._**

The wolf inside him was snarling the word over and over and over. This wolf in front of them was an Alpha. An Alpha like him. They couldn't both be here. One of them had to claim this territory.

They had to kill it. It was their task. To claim this territory as theirs they would have to kill this Alpha.

He roared loudly as he leapt from the bed and pounced straight for the Alpha who had threatened their power of supremacy, only one thought in mind strong enough to overpower all thoughts...

**_KILL._**

* * *

Derek, out of everything he could have expected to happen next, _did not_ expect Stiles to come pouncing at him with red eyes blazing and claws and canines out. Which is why he didn't have the time to dodge out of the way. Stiles tackled into him sending both of them to the ground, clawed hand to Derek's throat and face looming in front of him in what could be called 'throat ripping distance.'

Derek's wolf whimpered and Derek suppressed his own whimper, eyes wide as he watched how fiercely Stiles snarled in his face, eyes shining blood ruby red. The sides of Stiles' face were covered with _golden amber _(not_ black)_ fur, and there were two wolf ears sticking out from the top of his head, all pointy-like.

"S-Stiles stop," he choked, hands desperately trying to pry Stiles' own off his throat. Stiles didn't even seem to care, snarling again and digging his claws sharply into Derek's neck. "P-Please Stiles. _Stop_. This isn't you."

* * *

_"P-Please Stiles. Stop. This isn't you."_

Those words. His wolf was confused. Why did this Alpha keep calling them Stiles? W-Was that... their name?

"No," he growled, tightening his claws around the Alpha's throat. "I'm not any Stiles, I'm an Alpha," he snarled.

The Alpha under him whimpered and closed its eyes, turning its head to the side, baring its throat.

**_ALPHA SUBMITTING. TAKE. DOMINATE. KILL._**

With a growl, he prepared to sink his teeth into the Alpha's neck.

* * *

This was it. He was dead. Derek... Derek wouldn't fight back. He wouldn't kill Stiles, _couldn't _kill Stiles. Even if Stiles was an out of control newly turned Alpha, he _would not _kill his mate.

So he did the only thing he knew.

He submitted. Clenched his eyes shut, turned his head to the side, and gave in.

Derek heard the growl above him, knew that this was it. Stiles was going to kill him. He was done. He waited for it, waited for the sharp teeth to rip into his throat, for blood to fill his mouth and air to escape his lungs, and then...

* * *

The minute his mouth was on the Alpha's neck, before his fangs were about to sink in, take the other's life and territory along with it... he smelt it.

Mint. Sharp, musky, spiced mint. The kind you can smell when you walk into a garden and sniff the mint leaves, how they give off the strong heady aroma. _Mint_.

And this Alpha reeked of it.

But it wasn't just the smell of _mint_. No. It was way more than that. It was... it was the scent of **_MATE_**.

He couldn't... he couldn't kill this Alpha. His wolf knew, too. It whined, ears matting down over its head, eyes wide and scared (that they had nearly killed their **_mate_**) and _retreated_.

* * *

It didn't come.

There was no pain. No blood. No teeth sinking into his neck. Just... _sniffing_?

Stiles was _sniffing him_... and _whimpering_.

Derek opened his eyes and watched, astounded, as Stiles stopped sniffing at his neck and scrambled away from him quickly. He watched Stiles blink; eyes flickering back from red to amber, fur receding and bone structure taking usual shape.

He had calmed the wolf. Stiles had actually _calmed the wolf_. On his first turn…

"Stiles," he said softly, not sure if his voice would spook him or not. It didn't. Stiles stared at him, amber eyes wide and lips parted, panting.

"D-Derek?" He whimpered, body trembling. "W-What happened? Did I – D-Did I hurt you?"

Derek opened his mouth to speak but before he could he saw Stiles' eyes widen as they wandered down to below his jaw. He looked down and saw his neck was bleeding; Stiles' claws had scratched open the skin. "Stiles... Stiles _no_, it's not what i-"

"I – I did that," Stiles murmured, so soft that Derek barely heard it. "I-I... I hurt you."

Derek moved forward, trying to get close to his mate. "Stiles, _no_, you didn't m-"

"Didn't _mean it_?" Stiles snapped, loudly this time, edging back away from Derek. "B-Bullshit! I hurt you because I could! B-Because me and my wolf didn't..." He shook his head when Derek tried to move closer to him again, eyes sad. "...we didn't _recognize you_," he said softly.

"But you did, Stiles. You _did_." Derek reached an arm over to Stiles but sighed when his mate edged away from it again. "You could have ripped my throat out, but guess what? Guess what Stiles? You _didn't_. Your wolf smelt me, it smelt my _scent_, and it recognized me. It _knew _we were mates. And that's why you didn't kill me. You didn't kill me because _you_, you_ and_ your wolf, you both _knew _who I was."

"BUT WE COULD HAVE!" Stiles snarled, eyes flashing, making Derek shrink back in shock, eyes wide. He breathed in and closed his eyes; when he opened them they were amber again. "We – We could have killed you Derek. A-And if I did, if I _did_ kill you... I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself."

Derek's eyes softened. "Sti-"

"T-That's why I need to leave."

Derek froze. He couldn't have heard that correctly. He _couldn't have_.

"What?" He choked.

Stiles looked at him sadly. "I need to leave Derek. I – I can't stay here. Not like this."

Derek shook his head. "No. Stiles, _no_. You can't."

This time Stiles looked angry, lips pulled back in a half snarl and eyes dark. "I _can't _or you just don't _want _me to, Derek?" He snapped.

Derek wasn't sure what to say. He just looked down silently.

"That's what I thought," Stiles snorted, standing up. "I'm leaving. _Now_. I need to get out of here.

Derek jolted, standing up quickly. "No Stiles, you're not leaving," he growled.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Oh really. What you gonna do about it?"

Again, Derek didn't have anything to say. He couldn't force Stiles to stay. He knew that even _mates _didn't work that way.

"Typical," Stiles scoffed, walking over to the window and looking out. He turned to face Derek, seeing the Alpha looking at him with pained hazel eyes. "Oh cheer up you big sourwolf. I'll be back. Just need time to adjust..." He paused, continuing before Derek could say anything. "..._elsewhere_. Not here."

"So you're really going to leave," Derek said, eyebrows pinched. "Really going to leave Beacon Hills. Your _home_. Your _father_. _Me_. You're really going to leave _everything_?"

Stiles snorted. "Way to try and make me feel guilty Derek. Seriously, _great job_. I appreciate it buddy, I _really _do."

"Then don't leave."

"Sorry. That I can't do. No soiree," he sighed. "I can't stay here. I _won't_. Not when I'm like this; when I can hurt people, hurt my _dad_."

"You don't need to leave town though, Stiles. I can teach you. I can teach you how to_ control_ it."

"_Teach_ me?" Stiles laughed. "Sorry, ha ha, oh god, I'm sorry, but that – that's _hilarious_."

Derek frowned. "How is _this_ funny?"

"It's _funny _that you think you can _teach me _not to _kill _people," Stiles chuckled, now having the breath to speak without laughing his head off. "Derek, buddy ol' pal, if you can't see, I'm an _Alpha_ now. You can't just whip a collar on me and say 'sit Stiles, stay Stiles, don't kill Stiles' like I'm a disobedient puppy. I'm a _monster,_ Derek. I can't be _controlled_."

Yeah, that was just it. Stiles' new attitude was... was not something he could handle, and his anger got the better of him.

"Okay. Fine. Leave. _Go_," Derek growled. "But don't come running back to me with your tail in-between your legs when you kill some poor helpless fuck and end up being chased down by hunters," he said darkly.

Stiles' nostrils flared. "Ohhhh I won't even _think _of coming back here for your help. _Mutt_," he spat.

_"FINE! THEN GET THE FUCK OUT!" _Derek snarled, eyes flashing.

_"I WILL THEN! YOU MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE!_" Stiles snarled back, jumping out the broken window.

Derek was fuming, hands fisted at his sides, eyes flickering red dangerously. With a fierce roar he punched the wall in, hand going all the way through and making a hole in the wood. He kept punching the wall, roaring ad howling in rage, the upholstery breaking until it was crumbling down all around him.

Little did Derek know, but that was the last he'd see of Stiles in a long time.

* * *

At a very far distance away, in the middle of the forest under the moonlight, Stiles listened with red eyes flashing and wolf ears perked up, to the roars and howls coming from the Hale house many kilometres away.

A low growl rumbled in his chest and he lifted his head, high to the sky, before howling up at the moon. The wolf inside him growled lowly before howling as well, the sheer inner power making Stiles' own howl feel even stronger. _Louder_.

When the last rip of sound left his throat Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he continued listening to the piercing howls in the distance. With one last look behind him, at what he _knew _was his mate's home, he ran.

Far, far, _far _away.

He wouldn't be coming back here for a very _very _long time.

* * *

**_The genre say angst, do it not? Yes, I know I am being horrible to poor Derek with having his mate leave him, but it is for the best of what is to come in this story. Keep reading people. I assure you, we haven't even STARTED yet ;)_**


	4. Chapter Four

**_Kudos to the feedback! :)_**

* * *

Ever since Stiles left Beacon Hills all those years ago, he's become stronger, more in control of the wolf and more dependable on himself. As soon as he got off the border he'd travelled all over. He visited many towns and cities, only living in each one for at least three months before moving on.

He's been hunted down by hunters, oh _hell yeah_ he has. His first encounter was only six months after he'd left Beacon Hills and it had left him with a wolfsbane bullet to the thigh. He'd been dying, alone in the forest, with nobody to call on for help. But that's when Kasper had found him.

Kasper was a werewolf, an Omega who'd left his pack, had been travelling on his own ever since, just like Stiles was. He'd helped save Stiles, both of them tracking down the hunters who had attacked him and getting the bullet off them for the cure. But not before killing them. Oh that had been fun. Like a real life version of COD, just more bloody and without guns, instead – claws and teeth.

After that _wonderful_ experience Stiles and Kasper had become best buddies, Kasper not even caring that Stiles was an Alpha, just saying that, "There is no way I am submitting to you, dude. I left my pack. I got my freedom now and I'm damn well gonna keep it." Eh. It didn't matter to Stiles, really. He had a new best friend. It was fine.

They'd travelled together, from town to town, city to city, getting drunk and high (Kasper had introduced him to some crazy shit that could _actually _get their kind drunk and high like they could have when they were humans) while living the life of two wolves out in the wild, free to do whatever the fuck they wanted. It had been _awesome_.

As the years passed, Stiles and Kasper grew closer. Bro hugs, claps on the back and just plain simple gestures of friendship got a whole lot touchier. But all that aside. To Stiles it was the day when their usual bro hug had somehow managed to turn into a full blown make out session with blow jobs and hand jobs included, that he knew they weren't just _best friends _anymore.

From that night onward Stiles and Kasper's antics continued, got more heated. It slowly progressed from make outs, blow jobs and hand jobs to rimming and sex. Stiles was the one to top most of the time since Kasper had said one time that, "I have to admit, submitting in the bedroom sounds like an awesome idea." And Stiles? Yeah, Stiles wasn't going to fight on that one.

Since then there had been a lot of riding, bare backing and all sorts of other kinky shit. Yup. Stiles and Kasper really were living the high life.

But then came _that night_. The night was etched in Stiles' memory.

He and Kasper had been in the bedroom (yeah. not very hard to figure out what they were doing) when a hunter burst in through the door. Stiles of course, freaked the shit out, getting off of (out of. ahem. yeah. like he said. not very subtle) Kasper, covering their lower bodies with the quilt.

He'd yelled at the hunter, something like, "What the fuck are you doing! Breaking in someone's room! Fuck the hunter shit! As a _human being_, don't you have _any _courtesy what-so-fucking-_ever_!"

Yeah. That had _not_ went well.

Stiles hadn't even the chance to blink before the hunter had took out a gun and fired at him, not being able to move out of the way since the shot was so unexpected. But then Kasper had pushed him down onto the bed, shielding his body with his own. So he'd be shot instead.

The bullet had been lethal. It was wolfsbane, but unlike the other wolfsbane bullets Stiles had encountered, this one killed in mere minutes.

The hunter had fled after that. As soon as he saw Stiles' eyes flash red, he'd made a break out of the room in a hurry. Stiles hadn't even bothered to follow the fucking prick. He couldn't leave. Not when his best friend was dying.

There had been blood. _A lot_ of blood.

Stiles remembers like it happened yesterday.

* * *

_They'd been fucking when the hunter broke in._

_Stiles was on top, like usual, pounding a moaning and panting Kasper into the mattress._

_Stiles could never really get over of how damn beautiful Kasper looked underneath him when they fucked. He'd always watch how the Beta's eyes would flash from their natural smouldering grey to an even more hot icy blue with every thrust, how his body twisted and bucked beneath him, how he'd make all sorts of these hot little sounds, and how his hands furiously worked at his own leaking erection that Stiles would always allow him to touch (because **come on**. Stiles wasn't **that** cruel. he even jacked Kasper off with every thrust sometimes if the Beta begged him to.)_

_Kasper had been close,** so** close, thrashing around helplessly, Stiles talking dirty to him and shit to get him to come..._

_When the hunter broke down the door, barging in with no 'toodle do' or questions asked._

_"What the fuck, man!" Stiles yelled, awkwardly getting off of Kasper who had stopped making all those hot little sounds (damn it!) and was now silent, cobalt eyes wide. "Can't you see we're busy here!"_

_The hunter watched as Stiles covered both he and Kasper with the quilt, disgust clearly shown in his eyes. "You two are living here? **Together**?" He sneered._

_"Yeah. Got a problem with that, **hunter**?" He growled._

_"I do," the hunter said._

_"Well you can fuck right off! What the fuck are you doing! Breaking in someone's room! Fuck the hunter shit! As a **human being**, don't you have **any **courtesy what-so-fucking-**ever**!" Stiles snarled._

_"I have no problem with you fucking." He wrinkled his nose. "That... that's your own business and not mine. But I do have a problem with you being here. This is no place for werewolves. We have a code and that code is no werewolves allowed unless they have hunter permission to be here. You two don't. Some mate of mine says you have been living here for what, a month or so?"_

_Stiles frowned. "Code? Sorry buddy, but I haven't heard of any hunter code saying we can't be here. You should put up some signs around town if it's really that important, to inform werewolves in a social friendly way instead of barging in on their sexy time."_

_The hunter didn't even look slightly bothered by Stiles' smart ass commentary. "Well I'm here informing you that you can't," he said simply. "And if you don't leave, I'll kill you. **Both**."_

_"That's against your code," Stiles snapped. "You can't kill us unless we've hurt or killed a hunter or human. Me and Kasper haven't done anything wrong. You can't kill us."_

_"The code only applies in some situations, **wolf**. In this situation you have both disobeyed our code by being here in our town without hunter permission. I can, and **will** kill you, if you do not leave now."_

_"Stiles, maybe we should go," Kasper whispered, worried._

_"No," Stiles growled. He looked up at the hunter. "You can fuck right off, cause we're not leaving."_

_"Stiles, don't," warned Kasper, eyes wide. "You don't know what he can do. Maybe we should go. We'll find another town."_

_"Listen to your mate, boy. He knows what's good for him," the hunter sneered._

_Stiles was **so close** to ripping this dickfuck's head off. "Listen here buddy, we're not leaving. **Okay**? I don't know if it's just me but it doesn't look like you have any fucking right to barge in here like this and demand we get lost. So let me say this. Why don't** you** get lost! **Huh**? You're all 'I'm a hunter and I want you off my land' and shit but I don't see any weapons pointing my way. What's with that? You think you can drive us off without a fight? That it? Well, think a-"_

_And that was the moment the hunter took out his gun. Stiles didn't expect it, hadn't **actually** thought the hunter was carrying a weapon, so he was in no position to move out of the way when that gun fired._

_But his best friend was in a position to take the shot for him._

_Before Stiles could even blink, the shot had gone off, the **BANG** deafening to his ears. Then he was being pushed down into the mattress, Kasper suddenly hovering over him._

_"Kasper, what the fu-" Stiles yelled, but cut off when he saw the pained expression on his friend's face. He then saw the bullet wound near his heart, blood already blossoming out of it and making a trail of red down his chest. "N-No..."_

_"S-S-S-Stiles," Kasper gasped with eyes wide as he brought his hand up to his chest, over the bullet wound, before he slowly slumped to the side._

_Stiles looked at his friend lying beside him. Bleeding. **Dying**. He tore his eyes away from the sight, instead to look up at the hunter who stood at the door, gun still aimed in front of him; the arm holding the gun was shaking. He snarled, eyes flashing red. The hunter obviously didn't know he was an Alpha until now because the guy suddenly looked fucking terrified._

_"D-Don't move, o-o-or I'll shoot you next," the hunter stammered. Stiles could smell his fear, since it was rolling off of the guy in fucking waves._

_"You shot. My friend," he seethed, eyes dark._

_The hunter shifted his footing and the gun wavered in his hand. "I-I didn't... I-I mean y-y-you saw... he g-got in the w-"_

_"**You shot my friend**!" Stiles roared, knowing his face was all wolfy because the hunter was suddenly bolting out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him, the door slamming shut behind him._

_The minute the hunter was gone and Stiles couldn't smell his disgusting fear reeked scent he turned to his best friend, eyes wide as he watched the Beta tremble, gasping for breath._

_"K-Kas, no." He scrambled over to his friend, lifting him up and laying him across his lap. The bullet wound was still bleeding, rivers of blood running down pale skin and the dark red liquid soaking the white sheets underneath them._

_"S-Stiles, h-h-hey man," he choked, grey eyes **actually** dulling, which shouldn't be possible, since everyone knows grey is like the dullest colour out there._

_Stiles swallowed, feeling tears prick in his eyes. "Kas, w-why – why did you-"_

_"C-Cause it w-would'a been y-y-you," Kasper coughed, wheezing as he shook in Stiles' arms. "I couldn't l-l-let him s-shoot you. Y-You're the A-A-Alpha."_

_"Th-The **Alpha**!?" It came out half a sob and half a chuckle. Stiles shook his head. "Kas, that doesn't mean you just push me down and take a bullet for me. You don't give your **life **for me. I-I – I'm meant to do that. I'm the Alpha. I'm the one that should be protecting **you**."_

_Kasper laughed, but it broke off in sharp wheezes, blood pooling at the corners of his mouth. "D-Don't c-c-care. You're my b-b-best friend. I – I'd do anything f-for you."_

_This time Stiles didn't hold back the tears, one of them falling from his cheek and onto Kasper's face, mixing with the blood on his jaw. "Ha, yeah Kas, y-you're my best friend too buddy," he choked, pulling the Beta to his chest._

_They'd stayed like that. Stiles holding the Beta close, stroking hands through slick sweat covered black hair and kissing his temple, whispering comforts and listening to the sluggishly slow beats to his best friend's heart._

_ He stayed 'till Kasper slowly stopped breathing, until his heart finally gave out and stopped beating altogether._

_Stiles stayed with his best friend to the end._

* * *

After Kasper's death Stiles had hunted down the bastard that had killed his best friend. He found out where the guy lived and broke into his house. (Stiles likes to think it was not a coincidence how he burst into the guy's room while he was fucking his wife. neither does he count ripping out the woman's throat while he made the hunter watch, a coincidence either). He left the town soon after, disposing of the bodies where nobody would ever find them.

Stiles made a promise to himself that day.

He would never ever travel with anybody _ever_ again. It was far too risky, too dangerous for anybody to be around him.

From now on, he was a lone wolf.

* * *

**_So this chapter was basically what Stiles has gone through ever since he left Beacon Hills. Next chapter will be when Stiles come back. Yep. I said it. HE COMES BACK! But don't think that when he gets back he and Derek will be all over each other. No soiree. That is not how it works. It will be an angst filled journey back to lovely dovey mateship, indeed. And we will also delve into more of Stiles' time away from Beacon Hills in later chapters too._**

**_Oh, and I'm starting to feel like this should be more of an angst/tragedy. Since of all the death and sadness and stuff. What do you think? I'll leave that with you guys until next chapter._**


	5. Chapter Five

**_Feedback made me so happy! Thank you so much everyone! :)_**

* * *

A young man stands at the side of the road, hands in his jacket pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet idly. His dark brown hair blows freely in the wind, stylish black shades cover his eyes and the brown leather jacket he wears doesn't look like it comes cheap either.

"Eight years. _Eight years_ away from this place," he mutters, blowing a short breath of air through his nose. He kicks a rock at his feet, watches it skid on the ground a few meters away, before looking up at the billboard sign in front of him.

_WELCOME TO BEACON HILLS_

"That thing's still standing there?" He chuckles, whistling under his breath. "Wow, surprised it didn't get torn down years ago."

The man lowers his shades, just enough so his eyes can peak over the edge. His amber irises flash red.

"Gotta say, it's great to be back," he grins.

* * *

That morning when Derek woke up he checked the fridge and the cupboards, and just like it always was after six weeks without going out shopping, there was no food left.

"Great," Derek muttered. He didn't like leaving his property, preferred to stay out here, away from civilization, away from _people_.

Over the many years after Stiles left, Derek has been more closed off. He doesn't go out much anymore, only ventures off his property to go shopping once every few weeks, and even then he never makes contact with anybody. He just doesn't see the need to communicate with anyone. What's the point? It's not like they're going to help him, not like they're going to be able to fill up that empty whole inside his heart where his _mate_ used to be.

The pack had abandoned him long ago. They'd left for college, all of them, going to New York with different career paths in mind, leaving Derek behind to get on with his own stupid boring life. Derek rarely hears from any of them though, they're all wrapped up in their own silly little lives to care about checking up on him or to see how he's holding up. Derek doesn't care. Not one bit. He doesn't need them anyway.

He's fine, _and_ better on his own.

"Guess I better go out and get some things," he sighed, picking up his leather jacket from where it was lying over the edge of the couch, slipping it on and taking out his car keys. He went outside and walked over to his Camaro but before he got in his wolf smelt something.

**_MATE. MATE. MATE. MATE. MATE._**

Derek's nostrils flared and he shook his head. "You must be crazy," he told his wolf angrily, getting in his Camaro and slamming the door shut.

As the Camaro sped out of the Hale property, a pair of red eyes flashed from in the trees.

* * *

When Derek gets to the shops he immediately seems to bump into Sheriff Stilinski who is walking out with two shopping bags and a pack of beers held under his arm. Ever since Stiles left John had taken up drinking again and stopped eating healthy, not seeing the point any more since his son was gone.

Derek had told him everything after the Sheriff had come over his house a couple days after Stiles left and demanded to know where his son was. He explained about werewolves, the Kanima, the relationship with his son and what had happened with the were-cat. The Sheriff took it better than Derek expected he would, but John had made it damn clear that he and Derek were not on very good terms.

"Sheriff," Derek greeted politely.

John nodded, accepting the greeting. "Hale," he replied, then continued on.

Derek sighed. He knew the Sheriff still had a heavy grudge on him for what happened with Stiles, but considered himself lucky that John hadn't revealed his identity after finding out about everything, and still greeted him as politely as he could. _It was better than nothing_, Derek thought.

While shopping Derek couldn't help but walk past the frozen foods, remembering when he and Stiles had last been here to buy his dad food.

Derek smiles at the memory.

* * *

_"I'm getting the feeling that you only go shopping with me so you can buy your dad healthy food without him being able to stop you," Derek mused, pushing the shopping trolley in front of him past the freezers._

_Stiles poked his tongue out playfully. "He **can't **stop me, Der. And that's not true. I go shopping with you because I know that you'll buy me stuff," he teased._

_"Uh-huh," Derek smirked. He opened the freezer door. "Go on. Pick something out. I know you want to."_

_Stiles scowled before taking out a couple frozen meals and putting them in the trolley. "I hate you so much," he grumbled._

_"Even if I buy you a packet of chilli cheese fries?"_

_Stiles' head jerked up and he grinned. "Correction. I **love **you so much!" He hugged Derek and pecked him on the lips before running off to get them._

_Derek chuckled. "Don't run! You'll fall over!" He called. He watched Stiles do a thumbs up behind his back, nearly tripping over but gaining his balance at the last minute._

_"Noted!"_

_Derek just shook his head and laughed._

* * *

He sighed. Memories like these were reasons he never liked going shopping. Too many memories of him and his mate. Just too much.

Derek finished his shopping quickly that day and was on his way back home in less than twenty minutes. When he got back he took the bags out of the boot, locked the car, and made his way to the door... that was open.

"What," he muttered. Derek remembered closing that door when he left. He sniffed the air, growling when he picked up a foreign scent. His wolf though, recognized it immediately.

**_MATE. MATE. MATE. MATE. MATE._**

"Again?" Derek huffed. This was stupid. There was no way his wolf could be picking up that scent. There was no fucking way.

"Look, whoever's out there, you should be aware that you've trespassed on Alpha property. Since I'm in a generous mood today, I'll let you go while you still have the chance," he threatened.

There was silence. Derek was about to go out and look for the son of a bitch who had trespassed on his land when...

"Oooohhhhh Alpha property, soooooo scary!"

_No. There was no way._

"I won't ask again. Leave now or I'll be forced to kill you," he growled.

"Wow. Scary threat there, pal. Is it just me, or have you gotten grumpier since I left?"

Derek saw a flash of red in the shadows of his house before a figure walked out. It was a man.

No, not a man.

An Alpha.

The guy's dark brown hair spiked up, reaching just below his ears, not like the short buzz cut he'd left with. A pair of black skinny jeans fitted his lower body in just the right ways, white V neck T barely able to cover the taunt ripped muscles underneath that had never been there to begin with, brown leather jacket over the top that fitted his broad shoulders and toned biceps perfectly. His amber eyes shone golden in the sunlight, white teeth flashing as he grinned.

"Hey sourwolf, long time no see eh?"

Derek dropped his bags.

* * *

**_Guess who's baaaaaccck? ;)_**


	6. Chapter Six

**_FEEDBACK! Woo-hoo! Thank you so much people! :D_**

* * *

"S-Stiles?"

"Yep, that's my name sourwolf. Don't wear it out," Stiles grinned. He looked down to where Derek had dropped the bags, raising an eyebrow at the carton of milk that opened, the white liquid leaking out into a puddle on the ground. "Better save your milk there, Hale. Don't want to lose any of that yummy calcium goodness."

Derek was speechless, mouth not being able to form words. He just stood there, staring at the man who had grown up far too quickly for him to handle.

Stiles sighed. "Damn, you're like a fucking goldfish aren't ya." He walked over and picked up the bags at Derek's feet, handing them to the Alpha who, after a few seconds, shakily took them.

"Thanks," Derek muttered.

"No problem." Stiles waved it off airily. He looked down at the carton of milk that was still on the ground. "Yeah, but... you may want to buy another carton of milk. This one's wasted," he chuckled.

"Doesn't matter. Don't need it anyway," Derek shrugged.

Derek and Stiles eyed each other for bit, neither one of them speaking, until Stiles finally broke the silence and groaned.

"God damn it, you're still mentally constipated."

Derek just frowned.

"Oh c'mon Der, lighten up will ya. I'm back! Aren't we going to kiss and make up?" He teased, arms open. "You know you want to big guy. Hugs all around."

Derek didn't make any move to hug him back.

Stiles sighed. "Derek, buddy, what's wrong?"

Derek snorted. "You left, Stiles."

Stiles looked like he was going to speak but Derek beat him to it.

"There's nothing you can say to me that will make this any easier," he said, turning his back on Stiles, bags in his hand as he walked away and headed inside his house.

Stiles stood there, frozen. "De-"

"I think it'd be best for you to leave," Derek said over his shoulder, before slamming the door behind him.

Stiles sighed. "What's a guy gotta do around here to get some attention, huh?" He yelled. He was met with silence. Typically. "Heh, yeah, that's what I thought," he scoffed.

* * *

Inside the Hale house, Derek leaned against the door, listening to Stiles outside. His wolf was telling him to go out there and wrap his mate up in his arms and never let him go, but his head was telling him to leave him outside and ignore him.

"Derek! C'mon man, let me in!"

Derek clenched his teeth, banging his head against the door. _Don't open the door. Ignore him. He left. That was his decision. He needs to learn that not everything is going to go back to the way it was. You need time to think about what you want, Derek. Don't let him win you over just yet. _Derek's mind was telling him this but what came out of his mouth was...

"Go away Stiles, and don't... don't come back again. _Ever_."

* * *

Stiles couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Derek was telling him to leave? And to never come back? _Seriously_?

"Derek, open that door right now," he snapped. He could hear a soft snort from behind the door. He rolled his eyes and tried not to snort right back. "I'm not leaving, you know. I'll wait out here for as long as it takes."

* * *

Damn it. Even now, Stiles was persistent as ever. The kid could never really let down without a fight, especially when he wanted something. And right now he wanted to get into Derek's house.

"Stiles... just go. I don't want you here."

Derek heard the intake of breath, then a light snort.

* * *

Stiles snorted this time. Derek didn't want him here. Yeah. _Right_. That sourwolf wanted him here all right; he was just too mentally constipated to admit it.

"_Sure_. Keep thinking that. I know what you really want, Derek. And it's standing right outside your door."

* * *

It was true. He wanted Stiles. _Really really really really _wanted Stiles. But... he couldn't. He couldn't give in. Not like this. Not when Stiles just pops out of the blue after eight years with no contact, and expects to be let back into Derek's life like it's no big deal.

"No Stiles. I'm not – I don't want you. At all. If I wanted something, it'd be you out of here. _For good_."

* * *

Okay, that one _hurt_. Stiles felt the pang in his gums, could feel his fangs pushing through. It always seemed to happened when he was upset, like a natural reaction to pain. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down.

Derek... Derek didn't mean it. He didn't...

"You don't mean that, Derek. I know you don't. And – And I know you know it too."

* * *

No. No he didn't mean it. Of course he didn't mean it. God, he couldn't... he couldn't do this. Pushing Stiles away was hard, harder than he had expected it would be.

"Stiles, I need – I need you to leave."

* * *

"…I – I get it. You need time, right? That's all. _Time_. Time to think. Right Derek? That's all you need, hey big guy?"

* * *

_Oh, Stiles. Why? Why do you do this to me? _Derek sighed. The kid could never make these things easy. He always had to make them difficult.

"Stiles... yes. Time. I – I need time. So please, just go."

* * *

"Alright then. Sure. I – I can give you time. As much as you need, in fact. Just – Just tell me when you're ready to talk to me again. I'll be waiting."

* * *

Derek heard the sound of feet crushing on leaves, knowing Stiles was leaving. He couldn't stop his body from sinking to the ground.

* * *

**_Sorry this chapter took a bit longer to put up. Also sorry for its shortness. I had a family issue to take care of. It's all good now. Next chapter may be a more than a 2-3 day wait because I am having a sleep over tomorrow and won't have time to write._**

**_Review though. Please. I just love those :)_**


	7. Chapter Seven

**_Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for it all so far :)_**

* * *

There was only one place Stiles sought to go to after the big blowout with Derek.

His dad's.

He hadn't seen his dad in, _god_, what was it? _Eight years_. Because... oh yeah! He'd _left _Beacon Hills for a long time and only decided to come back for the sake of _Derek _who _surprise_, decided to technically _kick him off _of his property until further notice. So yep, his dad's was certainly first on his 'to visit and beg for forgiveness' list.

* * *

"I am _so_ going to die."

Standing at his old childhood home's doorstep was a whole lot easier than actually having the courage to _knock _on the damn door, Stiles noticed.

"He's going to shoot me. _Multiple time_s. With his _gun_. Then he's going to bury my dead werewolf ass _in the backyard _or something." Stiles banged his head on the door frame and groaned. "He might even put up a gravestone on top of it. 'Son of mine who left me for eight years, creating the burden for me to consume unhealthy fo-' _nah_ who am I kidding, he's probably _enjoying _his fatty food diet now that I'm gone."

Stiles sighed, raising a hand, ready to knock.

"Okay Stiles, you can do this. Just knock on the freaking door. He'll probably just yell at you... okay and then maybe try and shoot you. But it's all good. You'll heal. You're an Alpha!" Stiles chuckled dryly. "Oh who am I kidding. This isn't going to work." He turned around and was about to leave when...

"_Stiles_?"

Stiles froze at the voice. How could he forget that voice. _Seriously_? It was impossible. He turned around, only managing to smile sheepishly and give a light wave at the figure standing in the doorway.

"H-Hey. Hi... dad."

* * *

"What in _god's name_ were you thinking!"

Stiles flinched. He hated when his dad was mad. Even now the guy was scary when he was angry. And what was he... in his late fifties? Yeesh. Talk about a grumpy old man. Heh. He's kidding. He gets why his dad is upset. Hell, _he'd _be upset if he were in his dad's shoes.

"Dad... _I know_. I-I'm... I'm sorry," he sighs. He's about to start talking again, but stops when his dad holds up a hand and gives him the 'don't even think about making excuses' look.

"I don't want to hear it, Stiles."

"But da-"

"_Any of it_."

Stiles sighed in frustration, banging his fist down _hard _on the table.

"Then what the hell do you _want _from me dad? _Huh_? That I'm sorry for _leaving_? That I'm _sorry _I was gone for _eight years_ and didn't bother to check up on you guys? Or _hey_, how about _this_? That I'm sorry I'm a fucking _werewolf_!"

Stiles heard his dad's heart jump a beat, then quicken in pace. Oh yeah, he knew his dad knew about his new Alpha werewolf profile. Derek would have told his dad _everything_ as soon as he'd left town. Of _course _he would have. It's just what the sourwolf does.

"Stiles I-"

"_No_ dad. It's fine. You don't need to say anything," Stiles groaned. "If it's any consolation whatsoever, I give you _full permission_ to shoot my ass full of wolfsbane and kick me out the door." He ran a hand through his hair, blowing a short breath of air out from his nose. "After all, it's the least I deserve for leaving you here on your own."

John sighed. "Stiles, I'm not going to shoot you."

"You aren't?" Stiles said, wide eyed.

John chuckled. "Of course not. Why would I shoot my own son?"

"Well, I haven't been much of a son these past few years," Stiles said dryly.

John nodded. "That may be true, _but_ I am not going to shoot my own son just because he decided to take a little out of town vacation."

"Out of state vacation."

"Wait, _what_?"

Stiles smiled sheepishly. "I passed the border, dad. I left the state."

John sighed, shaking his head. "Damn it Stiles. The _state_?"

Stiles shruggged. "I needed a change of scenery."

"_Right_."

"But like you said, you're not going to shoot me. So can we please just get over the fact that I left the country?"

John frowned. "The country? You just said you left the state."

"Yeah, I did."

"But, _you _just said you left the country."

"Yeah, I did..." Stiles backtracked for a minute. "_Wait_, no I didn't. I didn't say that. The _country_? Ha ha, why would I leave the _country_? Heh, really? Dad, I'm not _that_ stupid," he chuckled, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Yeah, sure. Of course you're not _that _stupid," John deadpanned, sighing.

Stiles grinned. "See? All right! Up high!"

John just stared at the hand his son was holding up before shaking his head, getting off the couch and walking away.

"Hey! Dad! What's the matter?"

"You're a werewolf, Stiles. I thought you'd know to give up lying by now," John said over his shoulder before leaving the room.

It took a minute before Stiles understood what his dad meant.

"Oh... shit."

* * *

Over dinner Stiles talked to his dad about his 'Derek situation.' His dad seemed to not care as much as Stiles thought he would and was showing a clear distaste whenever Derek's name was mentioned. Stiles was starting to get a feeling that there'd been a feud between the two while he was gone.

"Hey dad, did you and Derek get into a fight or something while I was gone?" He asked through a mouthful of curly fries.

John wrinkled his nose. "Jesus Stiles, don't talk with your mouth open. You're like an animal."

"Well, I _am _a werewolf," Stiles laughed, swallowing and taking a quick sip of his coke. "But what's going on with you and Derek? Did something happen while I was gone?"

"No. Not at all." John took an awkward bite of his burger like he was avoiding the question.

Stiles frowned. "I know you're lying dad. What happened?"

John sighed. "Nothing _happened_, Stiles. We're just not on good terms."

"Huh. Okay then. Well how come he's all grumpy?" Stiles groaned, taking another sip of his coke. "He told me to leave, dad. He said he needs _time_. I don't get it. I thought he'd be happy to see I'm back." Stiles saw his dad look away quickly, could hear his heartbeat speed up. "Daaaaaaadddd, what is it?"

John sighed. "I only told him that if you ever came back to town he should stay away from, that's all. I didn't think he'd actually _listen_."

Stiles froze. "Wait, you told him to _stay away from me_?"

"Yes. I did. But I-"

"No. Nuh-uh. No away." Stiles shook his head, standing up. "Why did you do that dad? _Now_ I know why he won't even talk to me. Because you told him not to!" He yelled.

John stood up too, holding his hands up. "Wait. Son, calm down."

Stiles saw his dad gasp and take a step back, knowing his eyes were red. "_Don't talk to me_," he growled, before storming out of room, the house soon after.

He needed to talk to Derek.

* * *

"Derek open up! We need to talk!" Stiles yelled. He heard the sound of movement from inside the house but that was all. He sighed. "Derek please open the door. It's important."

"Doesn't matter. You can tell me from out there."

Stiles groaned. "Fucking hell Derek, I know why you're doing this! Okay? Just stop it! Dad told me what he did. I know he told you to stay away from me." He heard more sounds of movement from inside, then the sound of someone leaning on the door.

"_What_?"

"Yeah, that's right. Stiles knows everything. Now open the damn door so I can talk to you."

"You're talking to me now."

Stiles snorted. "Real funny Der. Now no more games. Open the door."

Nothing...

"Fine. I'll let myself in," Stiles shrugged, before kicking the door down. He saw Derek standing in front of him, on the other side of the broken down door, with wide eyes. "What? I told you I'd get in sooner or later," he smirked.

"You broke my door."

"I know," Stiles chuckled.

"_You. Broke. My. Door_."

"Again, I know, sourwolf." Stiles walked in, kicking at a piece of wood. "Don't worry about it though. I'll buy you a new one later," he smiled, patting Derek on the back.

"But for now, how about that talk?"

* * *

**_Thank you for your patience. I hope you liked this. Next chapter should be up in a couple days._**

**_Oh, yeah._**

**_#CLIFFHANGERS RULE! ;)_**


	8. Chapter Eight

**_My apologies for the long-ish wait. I had an internal battle with whether or not I should write some fluff for this chapter. I overcame the internal battle today and wrote this._**

**_Also..._**

**_You fed my back! Lol. Me just playing with words._**

**_*person is crazy cray cray. Ignore her*_**

**_THANK YOU FOR THE FEEDBACK! :D_**

* * *

Silence.

Silence is the one thing that Stiles can never seem to understand. Like, who would want to be _silent_? Nouns, verbs, adjectives. _Words_. Why the hell would somebody want to keep them locked away? Why would someone want to not let them out? Not _talk_. Stiles thinks it's crazy.

Which, at this point in time, Stiles thinks Derek is crazy.

Because the sour wolf is not talking.

Not a word.

And hasn't for the past 20 minutes.

They're sitting on the couch in the living room. The _living room_. Stiles can actually call it that now because, well, it's _liveable_. The living room has carpet. _Carpet_. And a TV (which is more like a flat screen). Also has he mentioned the whole house now has _furniture_?

Jesus. What the hell had gone down while he was gone? A whole lot of shit, that's what.

"Soooooo, uh, nice place. Did some renovation, huh?" Derek just stares at him silently (like he has been the whole _fucking time_) and Stiles just shuffled his feet, wondering when their communication levels had stooped so low. Oh wait, that's right, _when he had left_. "Do you think you could, y'know, say something? Anything?" He presses, but he gets the same stare all over again. "Or maybe not. Yeah. I'll... I'll just leave," he sighs, getting up and walking to the door.

"...Don't..."

Stiles stopped, turning around to see Derek looking down at the carpet, eyebrows narrowed so far down they might as well be connected as one. He frowns, walking back over and sitting down on the couch again, squishes himself over so his and Derek's shoulder are touching. "Derek, talk to me."

Derek shakes his head, gaze not moving away from the carpet at his feet.

"I... I know you didn't want me to leave to begin with," Stiles said softly. "But I had to go. I had to leave for the pack. For my dad. For _me_. I had to learn control so I wouldn't hurt anyone. And I… and I just feel like that maybe if I didn't, didn't _leave_, things would have been a whole lot different."

"Whole lot different all right," Derek snorted.

Stiles chuckled. "Yeah, it would have been a whole lot different but... but not in a good way. I could have killed someone. _Would have _killed someone." Derek glances up then and Stiles sees the slight questioning look in his eyes. "Yeah, I – I killed someone. It was only my third week away from Beacon Hills, actually. A girl..." He smiles sadly, shaking his head. "She was a very pretty girl. And I – I killed her."

* * *

_As it turns out, leaving your home town with nothing but the clothes on your bare back, with no food or water, just isn't what it's cranked up to be. He finds out that to survive he has to feed off animals, animals that are **alive** and that he has to **kill** to eat. He has to find shelter to sleep in someplace that's warm, concealed from sight and... Oh who is he kidding, he never **finds **a place like that. In fact, he just sleeps anywhere that has darkness surrounding it; which usually, is a forest or alleyway. Alleyway though? Not so much._

_It is in fact, where he finds his first victim._

_She's a young woman, looks like she's 20 or something, really pretty. Like a damn **model** with her wavy honey blonde hair, nicely hot built body and tanned skin. She probably just finished a late night course at college and is walking home. But it's her mistake of taking this particular route, is what gets her killed._

_Stiles is seeking solitude in the alleyway that night, sitting on the ground in one of the farthest and shadow concealing corners the alleyway has to offer, knees tucked up to his chest and head pressed in between his shins. He's trying to sleep, knows nobody comes down here often since he's been sleeping here for the past few days... but tonight is different._

_He hears her heartbeat, steady and firm, thumping in a rhythm that tells only of calm. He can also pick up the light sound of music, the beat of bass blasting out from the earphones, remembers the name of the song since it was on his IPod and he used to listen to it all the time back at home._

_"I'm falling to pieces... falling to pieces... I'm falling to pieces... falling to piece,." The girl hums, head swaying to the beat of the music, closing her eyes._

**_Wrong. Move._**

_It's now that Stiles realizes it has been more than two days since he last fed, and his wolf is thirsty for blood, hungry for **flesh**._

_And this girl has just found herself a death wish._

_She's still got her eyes closed, head swaying to the music and mouth singing the words of the chorus, when Stiles leaps out from the shadows and attacks her._

_Her screams are nothing to Stiles but like background sound to a real interesting movie, not important, as he rips into her neck with his teeth, claws digging into her sides and tearing through soft and pliant skin. He feels the blood gush out of her throat, the thick rich liquid pooling in his mouth and running down his chin as his jaws finally break through bone, the **SNAP **loud and deafening, like a crack of thunder in a storm. He hears her heartbeat stutter; screams cut out in a short breathed gasp and then a choked gargle, body in his arms falling limp._

_It's only when the blood lust is satisfied, his wolf now content and retreated, that he **really **sees what he has done._

_The girl's emerald eyes are unseeing, glazed over and staring up at the night sky, lips chapped and mouth open in a silent scream._

_And there's blood. Blood **everywhere**._

_The vile stuff is coating her all over like a sick veil of red. There's dark splatters of it on her white fur jacket and it's soaking through her blue jeans, the denim material sticking to her now pale tanned skin. The smell of it is... **oh god**. It reeks of death. The blood gives off the most pungent reeking scent he has ever experienced._

_Stiles feels sick, can literally feel everything in his body turning inside him. He finds himself heaving up his entire stomach contents all over the pavement. Blood is the only thing that comes out, though. It makes him feel even more sick, more and more blood spewing out until there's nothing left and all he can do is dry retch himself into unconsciousness._

_With only one highly dwindled thought left in mind._

**_I killed her._**

* * *

Stiles can feel the tension in the room so much like it's suffocating him. He turns his head to see Derek's face, the wide hazel eyes and mouth open agape is all he needs as to know that Derek is shocked.

"How old was she?" Is what Derek finally asks, and Stiles can only bite his bottom lip until he tastes blood. "Stiles, how _old_ was she?" He asks again, more harshly.

"S-She – She was only about 20." He murmurs head down. "I – I didn't mean it, though. I would – I wouldn't kill someone like that. I-I – I wouldn't..." He sniffs, already feeling tears in his eyes. "I wouldn't do that, Derek. _N-Never_."

"But yet you did."

Stiles looks up into Derek's eyes; they're soft, accepting, like he knows what Stiles has been through, can probably even relate.

"Y-Yeah. Yeah I did," he chuckles, but it breaks off into a sob. "I-I – I killed her."

Soon he's crying, body trembling and tears falling down his face. Damn it. He wasn't _meant_ to cry. This was only meant to be a reason for him to get Derek to realize that him leaving town was for the best, not something to make him burst into tears and turn this into a cry-fest.

"Hey, hey it's okay. Stiles, you didn't do it on purpose. It was an accident. _Shhh_, _shhh_, it's okay."

Stiles feels arms wrap around him, pulling him against a warm, strong built chest. He just let his hands curl up into the soft cotton fabric of Derek's shirt, head buried in the wolf's shoulder as he cries. It was weak, Stiles knew that, but it was all he could muster in that moment.

In the moment of truth.

* * *

Stiles doesn't know how long he cried for but he suspected it had been a while because next thing he knew, it was the next morning and he and Derek were curled up together on the couch, legs entwined and Stiles' head on Derek's chest.

"Oh man. Sorry. I – I didn't mean to..." Stiles stammered, trying to wriggle out of Derek's arms. The wolf's hold on him tightened and Stiles stopped struggling, looking up to see Derek's eyes closed, lips curled up in a small smile.

"S'Alright. Stay. Don't go," he whispered.

Stiles eyes widened. "S-Stay? You want me to stay?" He asked. He thought Derek had wanted him to leave. Oh yeah, that had been his dad. _Not _Derek.

"Mmmm-hmmm," Derek hummed, still smiling. "Stay."

"Okay." Stiles nodded. "I'll stay. Only for a little bit though." He laid his head back on Derek's chest, closing his eyes and listening to the Alpha's heartbeat.

With warm arms enclosing him, Stiles fell back asleep again.

Before he did, though, Stiles swore he heard Derek mutter a soft 'Missed you.'

* * *

**_The song the girl was listening to was She Wolf by David Guetta and Sia._**

**_As for Derek and Stiles being all cuddly now, I know it may have some of the readers confused and all you're probably thinking is 'Hey, what the hell is going on with this chick! She said they would not get together straight away.' Yes. Well they won't. This was just scene I had to add in as to stop me from going completely insane with all the angst. I NEEDED SOME FLUFF!_**

**_So yeah. I wrote some fluff._**

**_BUT IT WILL NOT BE FOREVER! Sadly._**

**_Sorry guys..._**


	9. Chapter Nine

**_Sorry for another long wait. Well, that's what happens when you work on 3 stories at once. Ha ha._**

**_Thanks for the ongoing support guys! :)_**

* * *

When Stiles woke up the second time, everything was quite… _quiet_. After a couple seconds he noticed that was because there was no Derek lying beside him anymore, no arms wrapped around him, and no heartbeat _or_scent of the Alpha anywhere.

So he panicked.

"Derek?" He called, not really caring at that moment to even pay attention to the desperation that one word held all on its own, coming out of his mouth. When there was no answer, he walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, poking his head around the corner. "Derek?" Yet again there was no reply.

He panicked even more.

"Fuck_, Derek_!" He yelled, running up the stairs to Derek's bedroom. He practically ripped open the door, rushing in to only find an unmade bed and no Alpha. He wasn't there either. Shit. Where else was there for him to _go_?

"Derek Derek Derek Derek Derek… _shit_!" Stiles cursed, bolting out of the Alpha's bedroom and back down the stairs. There was only one more place that Derek could be.

The woods.

He was halfway towards the front door (huh. there was a new door there now? Derek must of put it up when he was asleep or something) when the figure who was walking in yelped at the surprise of Stiles knocking into them, sending them tumbling to the floor.

"Derek, you asshole! Where were you?" Stiles screamed, hands tugging at the Alpha's jacket collar. "I looked _everywhere _for you and you weren't here! You scared the fuck out of me!"

"I only went out to the shop for _10 minutes_," Derek said, voice in exasperated disbelief as he held up a take away bag from Starbucks. "Cinnamon bun." He passed the bag to Stiles when the younger Alpha's face lit up.

"Oh... Ha ha! Well, _wow_, that's awesome!" He opened the bag and took out the sugared pastry, biting into it. "Aw man, it's been _ages _since I've had one of these," he said, moaning in appreciation as he took another bite. "Thanks dude."

"Don't call me dude, and no problem. Now you mind getting off me? Think you're crushing my tibia or something."

"That's in your leg, dumbass. I'm sitting on your stomach," Stiles chuckled.

"Yeah, well you're crushing my… _pancreas_." Derek winced when Stiles shifted, hip bone digging into his stomach. "_Stop moving _and get _off_."

"Geez, okay okay!" Stiles' foot still somehow managed to kick Derek in the shin as he got up, making the Alpha grunt and causing the alleged body part to crack. "Yep, and _now _there goes your tibia!" He teased.

"Ha ha," Derek mused dryly, getting up, shaking his leg out and hearing another crack to signify the bone was back in the right place. "_Don't _do that again," he warned.

"Why? Is it because you're too _breakable_?" Stiles grinned, popping the last piece of cinnamon bun in his mouth. "Or is it because I'm just too _hard to handle_?" He winked.

Derek refused to let his eyes drift downward at Stiles' statement, knowing _what_ was there and_ how_ it was there. Having somebody on top of you, hips carefully situated on your own and with just one movement said hips could roll together, didn't help anything below the waist on his part. "Shut up."

Stiles just laughed and walked a bit closer, smirking. "We _can_ – you know," he breathed lowly, right near Derek's ear, "fix that, if you want."

Derek nearly, _nearly _let his eyes blow wide. That had been… unexpected. But fuck. It was tempting.

"No, Stiles. We can't."

Stiles' eyes flickered red and his smirk grew. "You sure about that…" His hand covered Derek's jean cladded crotch, squeezing the hard bulge. "_Big guy_."

The breath faltered in Derek's chest, escaped his mouth in a sharp hiss. "_Stiles_…"

"What is it, Derek?" Stiles crooned innocently, his fingers kneading the rock hard flesh, nails digging into where he _knew _was the Alpha's weakness. "Don't you want to find out _how hard this can get_?" He whispered huskily.

Derek's hips rolled up without him wanting them to, the whine that had expelled itself from his throat too late to be taken back.

"Now _there's _that sound I was looking for," Stiles praised. Derek felt the hand crawling up beneath his shirt, felt the fingers skimming past his navel, down to the waistband of jeans… and slipping under. "Think I can get some more of those, huh?"

"_No_…" He grit out. His teeth are clashing together so hard that he's amazed he hasn't gnawed through them right down to the gum. He's wearing no underwear. Hadn't worn them for years because he didn't see the need to any more since there was no one (Stiles) to have the fun of taking them off. But now… "Fuck – aahhh – _Stiles_."

"No. You're not-?" Stiles' hand is feeling around, fingers running all over. "Oh my god – you're no- Derek!?"

If it weren't for the hand around his _dick_ Derek would have come up with something smart-assed to say back, and when that hand twisted _up_, fingers _just _brushing that damn _sensitive _little vein that snakes all the way from base to tip, prodding against it experimentally with bony fingertips, he groans, breath shaky in his lungs as he drops his head and gasps. "_Stiles_…"

"You – you're – _fuck_, Derek." There's no warning before the hand (the one that _isn't _down his pants) decides to join the party, slipping under the waistband of his jeans and taking hold of him, cupping gently, and _tugging_, careful, persistent drag of force with a soft feather-light scrape of fingers. "You're – god Derek, you're so fucking _beautiful_."

It's in the shortest amount of time Derek's ever come in his _life_, and okay, maybe not touching himself in eight years was a _little bit_ to do with it.

Stiles must be shocked too, if the way his heartbeat jolts in surprise when Derek's digging nails into his arm, eyes clenched shut and chest heaving, mewling and panting raggedly through his orgasm, hips canting forward as he comes hot and hard in his jeans, is anything to go by.

"Woah! Holy cra- Der, you okay?" He asks, hands finding their way out of Derek's jeans. They're covered with cum, white and sticky substance in-between fingers and when he stretches them out it's like spider web. He looks at his hands, then up to Derek's blissed out face, eyes widening. "Oh – shit – how long-?"

"Eight years." Derek manages to speak, but he sounds _wrecked_. "I haven't…" He drops his head, embarrassed. "…since you left."

"Oh." Stiles looked down at his hands again, scrubbing a bit of cum off a little awkwardly. "Well, at least you don't have blue balls anymore… right?" He looked up at Derek, grinning.

Derek chuckled weakly. "Yeah – I… yeah."

"Wait a minute. You hadn't – at all – until _then_?" Stiles' eyes are wide again, his lips are curled up into a smirk, and he laughs when Derek nods. "_Dude_ – that – that's _nasty_, man."

"I got by," Derek shrugged.

"_Yeah_, without jerking off at least _once_." Stiles shakes his head, like he's ashamed. "You seriously _need _me right now."

"No, Stiles," Derek frowned. "I let you do that because – I was_ weak_, okay? And I haven't – done _it_ – not since you left. This was nothing – only once – not _again_."

Stiles frowns too, eyebrows knitting together. And wait, isn't that _Derek's _thing? "Huh. So that – _that _was only a one-time thing?"

"Yes."

"You know what? Fuck you, Derek," Stiles growled. He wiped his hands on his jeans, nose wrinkling when the shit wouldn't come off. "You – _you _are just so… FUCK!" He shouted.

Derek just watched, horrified, as Stiles stormed off, fist punching through the wall before he exited through the front door – no, _smashing _the new door to nothing but splinters of wood, before leaving with a roar Derek hadn't ever thought Stiles could muster.

Great. He needed to buy a new flippin' door now.

* * *

Stiles was furious. _Beyond _furious, actually.

Derek – that _fucker_ – had wanted him to stay with him last night, _wanted _to cuddle with him, and had _wanted _him to jerk him off today. And now? _Now _it was just a one-time thing? Nothing but a _one-off_? Oh, _fuck that_!

It was so fucking _ON!_

Derek would _not _know what he had coming.

Over the years Stiles had grown into a new attitude, to not give a flying fuck about things he should any more. This town – his childhood home – was nothing but his own fucking _playground_ now.

And oh, he intended to _play _with it as much as he _fucking liked_.

Nothing was going to stop him.

_NOTHING._

* * *

**_Okay, heads up. Stiles is going to be getting real badass in future chapters. Just let me say this- Nothing will stop him from carrying out his plans. NOTHING._**

**_Not even his own father. Or Derek._**

**_So get ready for some real BAMF don't-give-a-fuck Stiles guys! ;)_**


	10. Chapter Ten

The first place Stiles went to when he left Derek's house, was the woods. He'd need to cool off some steam before he'd be able to show his face back at his own place – let alone the _town_ – without gutting a few people in plain view or sight.

It was a wolf thing he'd grown into – without meaning to – over the years while he'd been away from Beacon Hills.

When he was angry, or even a tad pissed, his wolf would go nuts. It wasn't even his fault. He'd just _snap _and go full Alpha wolf on anything that came across in his path, not caring – not really having the right frame of mind with all the wolf's rage _to care_ – or to stop what he was doing until the thing his wolf had set its eyes on was indeed stone cold dead.

But, if Stiles really, and I mean _really _tried hard enough – fought a tough internal battle with his wolf – he could manage to falter in his attempt at insane-psycho-wolf-murder and flee the scene before things got too bad._Too bad_. He's not saying that the prey would be getting out of it _unscathed_… just not dead like it could have been.

Right now was certainly one of these moments. He was pissed, more pissed than he had _ever _felt since he'd been human, in fact. His wolf wanted to sink its teeth into something, to rip and tear until it could taste blood on its tongue, rich and warm and salty. He _needed _to find something for that purpose… and soon. If not soon, well, things would turn ugly. _Very ugly_.

Luckily for Stiles, halfway into the woods he found a deer. It was grazing on some leaves, too concerned with its food, that it didn't hear Stiles sneak up on it.

With one quick burst of speed Stiles darted out from the trees and tackled it to the ground, arms around its middle, sinking his claws into its side, feeling the fur break way and skin puncture under his nails, rush of warm blood flowing out from in-between his fingers. The deer made such horrendous, pained and frightened noises, most of which would want to drive an animal rescuer into shooting Stiles in the head with an AK-47 or some shit.

Stiles let his fangs slide into the deer's throat, slicing right through veins and arteries, breaking into bone and snapping it apart in middle as his jaws clenched around its neck. Gushes of blood pulsed out, filling his mouth with its bitter salty taste and sliding down his throat with ease, quenching the hungered thirst deep down in his belly that had him under its hold, now slowly releasing with each gulp and swallow of molten iron flavour.

When Stiles was sure the deer was dead, heartbeat silent, blood no longer pumping in its veins, he lets his fangs sink into his gums and leant back to take a look at his handiwork. The deer's throat was completely torn open, bone fragments poking out from under the dirty brown matted fur, blood and marrow still dripping out from the wound. The deer's eyes were still wide open, pupils halfway rolled back in its head, jaw slack with a slick drip of blood dribbling out.

"Sorry buddy, but you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Stiles ran a hand down its back, feeling the blood matted in its fur, sticky and slippery, before bringing the hand to his mouth and licking a stripe of blood off that had marked his pale skin. "Guess I better bury you now or something, huh?"

Stiles stood, lifting the deer up with him, slinging it over his shoulder before walking down the bank of woodlands, through the trees, whistling some tune under his breath. When he came to a secluded part of the forest that he could bury the deer without anyone finding it – unless a werewolf did by scent – he put it down on the ground, beginning to dig with his claws at the dirt and leaves at his feet.

It took about 10 minutes but soon there a hole deep enough for the deer to be placed in and covered without any hassle. Stiles picked up the deer and threw it in, covering the hole with dirt and leaves again until it was completely hidden from sight, just like there'd never even been a hole to begin with. With one last look, a satisfied nod, Stiles dusted his dirty hands on his jeans and then turned around, heading back the way he had come, tune he'd been whistling earlier making the walk back very pleasant.

* * *

Stiles made it back home around midnight. He could hear his dad's snores loud and clear from his bedroom upstairs and Stiles smiled, pleased that his father was getting sleep nowadays and not patrolling on graveyard shifts like he used to do back when Stiles was in high school.

When Stiles made it up to his room the first thing he did was slip out of all his clothes off apart from his back boxers and face plant straight down into the mattress, contented sigh slipping past his lips at the soft landing. It had been too long since he'd slept on something this comfortable other than the ground or in a tree. Yes he had stayed in a couple motels over the years but they weren't that great, bed mattresses lumpy and smelling of old dried cum, probably from the many past visitors who'd decided to get down and dirty.

This was quite a wonderful change and he planned to enjoy every last second of it.

* * *

The next morning came too quickly.

Stiles was awakened by knocks on his door, a loud rap of knuckles that sounded like pieces of wood splintering to his sensitive ears. His groan was muffled by the pillow that he shoved over his head as to try and block out the torturous sounds of a new day.

"Come on Stiles, up an at 'em." Stiles rolled his eyes at his father's cheery voice from behind the closed door. Of course the guy was up this early.

"Go away. Some people still need sleep." He huffed, rolling over on his stomach and tucking his knees under his chest, huddling up in a ball.

"Now, now son. No need to be grouchy." Stiles heard the door open, creak of wood yet another splintering sound that shattered the quiet sleepy state of mind he was in. "Oh, look at you," he heard his father sigh, amusement hinted just barely. "You're just like a cute little puppy wrapped up in blankets."

Stiles snorted. "Go. Away, dad."

"Aw, and miss this moment? Not in a lifetime," the Sheriff chuckled, camera phone held up and pointed at Stiles, mass of limbs covered by blankets and body curled up in a ball. "I'll give you a three second's chance to say cheese. One – two – three. Oops, too late."

_*CLICK*_

"DAD!"

* * *

"So… Derek called me this morning, said you two had a fight," John said, taking a bite of buttered toast, chewing slowly.

Stiles jolted from his mid-way sleepy position of slumping at the table, blinking a couple times. "Uh… um, yeah. I guess," he yawned. "It was nothing."

John sighed. "Now son, look. I know you like to keep your privacy… and not tell me about things that happen between you and Derek but-"

"It was silly. Just a stupid argument, dad. Don't worry," Stiles cut in, smiling softly. "I'm sure that it will all heat over soon."

John took in his son's lopsided smile which was still the same even if the kid was 24 years old, and shook his head, smiling too. "Okay, Stiles. I believe you."

"Thanks dad. I know I can trust you," Stiles smiled, warmly this time, getting up and rounding the table so he could give his dad a hug. "I love you."

John patted his son's back, closing his eyes and smiling contentedly. "Love you too, kid."

* * *

After breakfast the Sheriff had a shift at the station and Stiles decided to head out over to Scott's. He hadn't seen his best buddy in ages, couldn't believe that it was his second day back in Beacon Hills and he'd forgotten to visit. He rang the doorbell (they had one now. finally!) at the McCall's and waited a couple seconds, grinning when Melissa answered the door.

"Ms McCall!" He didn't give her any acknowledgment time before he'd pulled her into a hug, smelling her perfume that permeated off her skin like soap. When he pulled away he smiled at her shocked face. "I can tell you that have _no idea_ who I am," he laughed. "It's-"

"Stiles!?" Ms McCall's eyes widened when she finally realized who it was standing in front of her. She brought a hand up to Stiles' face, running her fingers over his jaw and through his hair. "Jesus, look at you. You – you're-"

"Hot?" Stiles smirked, not at all surprised when he got a slap to the cheek. "Okay, _yeah_, I deserved that," he chuckled.

"Where the hell have you been!?" She yelled. "Scott was so worried. We all were. We had no idea where you'd went," she frowned. "Your father was worried sick, Stiles. Have you seen him yet? Let him know your back?

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. He – He knows. I – wait one second, you _didn't _know what happened?"

Ms McCall shook her head. "No. Scott, me, Lydia, the _others_, we all had no idea where you'd gone or why you'd left. It seemed that guy Derek Hale had an idea but…" She sighed. "Just – god, _come here_." She pulled him into another hug. "I'm glad you're back, Stiles. I missed you. We all missed you… especially Scott."

"Scott…" Stiles smiled, pulling back. "Scott. Is – Is he here? Can I see him?"

Ms McCall's smile dropped and she sighed. "Stiles…"

"What?" Stiles frowned. "Is… does he not want to talk to me? Is he angry at me? Ha! Of course he's angry with me. But… but can – can I still see him? Please? I need to apologize."

"Stiles, Scott… Scott's gone," Ms McCall said sadly. "He left."

Stiles' eyes widened, couldn't stop the flicker of red seeping over. "_WHAT_?"

* * *

**_I know this story is going all haywire and I have had a reviewer say it is starting to not flow at all and make no sense. I sincerely apologize. I am trying to change that. I have decided to not let Stiles go all BAMF anymore and he will gain more of a conscience from now on. He will still have anger lashouts and some moments of blood lust but he will not go to extremes like I had originally planned. I am sorry if some of you were really excited and looking forward to see Stiles go all rabid and murderous but it's just not going to happen, for the sake of the flow of the story. I will, though, have more gory bits and pieces of Stiles' life away from Beacon Hills for some of you who still want their dosage of badass Stiles._**

**_Whew. Speech fit for a king. Hah. Thank you for listening to that. I really hope all you guys are enjoying this story. I am very content and happy writing it. I hope you all will give me feedback. I'd like to know how you think I'm going :)_**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**_I know this was a long wait. I had to think about some things concerning future chapters and get the ideas all sorted out in my head before I wrote this chapter._**

**_I hope everyone hasn't given up on me because of the long wait. The following chapters will be WORTH IT, I assure you ^.^_**

* * *

"So he – he _left_?" Melissa nodded and Stiles' hands trembled, fingers clenching and unclenching in his lap, eyes practically burning holes through the wall he was glaring at.

"They all did; left for college in New York," she said softly. Stiles turned, anger slowly fading when he caught the sad look Melissa wore on her face. "Scott's studying to become a vet. So is Isaac. They both live together in an apartment that's a couple minutes away from campus."

"Isaac and Scott, huh? Then what the hell's going on with Allison?" Stiles frowned. His best buddy and Allison were like the two dogs from Lady And The Tramp, un-separable in their bond of love and all romance cliché as two can get to come close to kissing mid spaghetti string. How come Scott wasn't following her around like a lost puppy anymore? Did they finally decide to call it quits? Stiles can say that, that's _very unlikely_.

Melissa sighed. "Allison and Scott. Um. They broke up." Stiles arched an eyebrow. "She and Scott wanted to go to different colleges, _but also _they both wanted to go to the same one," she chuckled, shaking her head. "They split up not soon after. I guess they couldn't handle the separation."

Stiles scoffed, wringing his hands out in front of him and twirling his fingers. "I knew it wouldn't last for those two." Melissa frowned and he shrugged. "Well. I mean, who _does?"_

"You and Derek seem to be okay, even after you being gone for almost nine years." Stiles scowled at her judging tone. "I'm surprised that he didn't give up, after all these years, if I'm to be honest. He never came out of that old place in the woods, you'd only see him at the shops every few weeks, six at most, and even then he never stayed out long. You really hurt him, Stiles. He's not like he was before you left. He's… distant. He needs you."

Stiles laughed bitterly. "Need me? Yeah. No. I don't think so." He narrowed his eyes. "Plus since when did this switch to 'interrogate Stiles', huh?"

"He _does _need you, Stiles; and I'm not interrogating you, I'm merely trying to talk some sense into you."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Same thing."

Melissa pointed a finger at him. "Don't you dare roll your eyes at me, young man. You may not be in high school anymore but I'm still the adult here and you'll show me some respect."

Stiles shifted on the couch, hands clasping in his lap. "Yeah…" He laughed weakly. "Yeah, I know. M'sorry," he sighed. "But – here's the thing, Ms McCall. Derek – Derek doesn't want _anything _to do with me. So you're wrong. He doesn't need me; he wants me to _go away_. And to be completely honest, right now? I'm starting to feel like I should. Y'know? Go away. Cause me being here isn't really doing anything to help you guys. Seriously, all I'm doing is just re-opening wounds that closed over the time I've been gone. They're starting to like, _fester _into something else… with Derek especially. So yeah, I think I should just – just pack my things and leave… again."

The whole time throughout Stiles' speech (one of his _longest _by far, if he's ever counted syllables) Melissa was shaking her head, soft smile on her face. When he finished, looking up with does brown eyes, they reminded her so much of the younger Stiles. The Stiles who always got her son into fun trouble; the same one who went on nightly escapades that involved regularly climbing through Scott's bedroom window and nearly getting whacked over the head by her with a baseball bat. She laughed fondly.

"What?" Stiles frowned, eyebrows etched in confusion. "Did I – Did I say something funny?" She kept laughing and he groaned. "What!"

Melissa stopped laughing, her eyes brown eyes shining with humorous light. "You, honey. Stiles, it's you." She put a hand on his shoulder, still managing to let out a few low giggles. "Derek doesn't want you to _go away_. He's – He's _pining for you_."

Stiles looked at her like she was insane. "_Right_. Yeah, that's _totally_ believable. Nice try, though. You _almost _had me, Melissa."

Melissa shook her head. "I'm not kidding, Stiles. You being away for so long did something to that man. He's more closed off, like I told you before, with only leaving the house for groceries… but he also howls _every night_."

Stiles blinked with his eyes wide. "What – What do you mean?"

She pats his shoulder. "He howls, Stiles. _Every _night, at exactly midnight, when the moon's the brightest; and if you're really listening, you can hear him."

Stiles looked at her, eyes still wide.

"Sometimes he howls more than once, but that's…" Melissa's face contorts to sadness, and she closes her eyes. "That's only on the night you left." She lets out a shaky breath, eyes opening and she stares straight into Stiles' own amber ones. "He howls all night long, on those nights. Neighbours around here complain about it, yelling out 'Shut up' and anything they feel the need to curse." She shakes her head. "But he never stops. He just keeps going." She laughs lightly at that. "He howls until morning, stops just about right when the sun's coming up."

"He-"

"But he always howls just that _one_ more time." Melissa cuts Stiles off, soft smile on her face. "It's always at the exact same time, too. Four am. When the sky's all mixed colours, pink and red and orange; right on the crack of dawn." She smiles even more softly, running her fingers along his arm gently, when she catches the sight of tears welling in Stiles' molten whiskey eyes. "I still can't understand how he does it, because he howls all night long but_ still_… the last howl is somehow always the loudest."

By the time Melissa is finished talking Stiles feels like a _horrible _person. He's trembling, Melissa's gentle hand on his arm doing nothing to make him feel even a _tiny bit _better. He just collapses against her, tears leaking out of his eyes and sobs racking his body, breathing ragged and heavy until he feels like he's human again, back to having one of his panic attacks.

* * *

Some of those times Stiles had heard those howls.

Always at midnight.

Because he _remembers_…

* * *

_The **FIRST** night he'd heard it, was the night he'd been renting out an apartment on the outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia. It was ratty; beds not that comfortable and surroundings not that liveable; but it was **enough**._

_He was just about to fall asleep, ready to take a trip into Stiles' land, when he'd heard it…_

**_AARRRRRRRRRRWWWWWOOOOOOOOWWWWW…._**

_It had surprised him._

**_FUCK _**_had it surprised him._

_He'd leapt out of bed, red eyes flashing and throat rumbling out little growls. He'd expected another wolf to be close by, expected to **smell **another wolf's scent._

_But he hadn't._

_He had just heard that **HOWL**._

_He'd fallen asleep with the symphonic sound etched into his memory._

* * *

_The **SECOND** night was when he'd been shot with the wolfsbane bullet._

_It was midnight when he'd heard it._

_Just like the last time, 5 months ago._

_He'd been resting his body against a tree, leg hiked up over his lap, staring down with tired eyes at the infected wound that was travelling black pulsing veins up his thigh._

**_AARRRRRRRRRRWWWWWOOOOOOOOWWWWW…._**

_His head snapped up, an immediate response was to have his eyes flickering red and to look around for another wolf nearby, probably hiding itself in the trees._

_When he'd seen nothing a loud whined growl tore itself from his throat and he shut his eyes, head falling to the side weakly, though being supported by the tree behind him._

_That's how **KASPER** had found him._

_Stiles and Kasper never talked about how only Stiles had heard the howl, though…_

* * *

_The **THIRD **night was when he and Kasper were together – in bed – having sex._

_Kasper was panting and moaning brokenly, hips grinding up in greedy and wanton thrusts as he matched every single one of Stiles' rhythmic movements._

_Stiles' hands were firmly planted on his hips, fingers stroking along the Beta's hipbones as hands helped guide Kasper's hips up into every one of his thrusts, keeping the pace even and rough._

_"S-Stiles – **ah** – faster! Please!" Kapser's hands came up, latching onto Stiles' shoulders, nails digging in as his hips rocked forward faster, forcing Stiles to grip the Beta's hipbones tighter to keep up with his guiding hands._

_"**Ngh** – e-easy there, doggy," Stiles laughed breathlessly, hands gliding down from Kasper's hips to underneath his thighs, as he lifted the Beta up – impaling him **right on his dick**. "F-fuck – **ungh**. I-I – **ah** – shouldn'ta d-done th—**ahhh**—hat." He gasped, groaning as Kasper whined loudly and slammed himself down **just fucking like that**._

_"W-Why n—**ngh**—not?" Kasper moaned, whimpering and cursing when Stiles rammed up into him while holding his thighs apart, grinding sharp jutted hips into him brutally. "**Ahh** – f-fuck yes! Just – **gaahh** – just like – **ungh** – that!"_

_With every single whine and whimper, curse and moan Kasper made, Stiles felt himself** totally** losing it. The sounds escaping his lips were **way past** normal orgasmic noises and his hands were sweaty; he could feel them slipping from Kasper's quivering thighs so he dug his nails in harder, swivelling his hips to the right in an attempt to wedge himself deeper inside – and that was all it took._

_"Oh my go—**uhhh**! Fuck fuck fuck fuck **f-fuck** – **aahhhhh**!" Stiles could feel every single one of Kasper's muscles undulating, squeezing so fucking **tight **around him, as he came, spurting white hot come all over their chests._

_After all that, it was starting to get difficult to keep up in his own thrusts._

_He was close too, now. So fucking **close**._

_"M'close. **Fuck** – Kas – m'so close," he gasped._

_"C'mon, Sty. Come on, come on, come **on**," Kasper coaxed, running his hands everywhere; down Stiles' back, along his arms, over his chest and across his pecs, with fingers brushing his nipples – and that was **it**._

_Stiles was **DONE**._

_Everything soon turned blurred and hazy._

_Stiles moved hard and fast, with reckless abandon, hips bashing out a series of thrusts that were all off key to his earlier set-paced rhythm. His body melted into the moment, riding out the oncoming waves of orgasmic bliss. He howled out a loud, thunderous cry of internal desire as he finally found his imminent release._

_"Oh god. That's good – **fuck** – that's good. Just like that. **Ahhh** – fuck, yeah. Fill me up with your come. Yes!** Ngh** – feels so **good**. That's perfect – **god**. So **perfect**, Sty," Kasper crooned through Stiles' mix of whimpering, moaning and panting, hips shifting as he was filled up, leaking the Alpha's come._

_By the time his orgasm had passed and his body fell limp and sated on top of Kasper's, Stiles was too tired and sleepy to hear anything._

_So the same, usual, and anonymous…_

**_AARRRRRRRRRRWWWWWOOOOOOOOWWWWW…._**

_went by un-noticed._

* * *

_The **FORUTH** night he heard the howl… was just after Kasper had died._

_Stiles had been sobbing, holding his best friend's cold, lifeless body in his arms; Kasper's head in his lap, grey eyes dull and unseeing, staring up at him. The bullet wound imbedded in the Beta's chest was an unsettling reminder to Stiles, bringing back the reason his lover was dead._

**_ALPHA_**_._

_That was it._

_That was the reason…_

_Stiles had never asked to be **anyone's **Alpha – didn't **want **to be an Alpha to anybody, let alone his best buddy._

_But he **had** been._

_And in the end, Kasper's life had been ripped away from him because of it._

_A beautiful, fucking **gorgeous **life – and it was now gone, **destroyed**._

_All because Stiles had been his fucking **ALPHA**, and he'd felt the need to just jump in the path of a **wolfsbane** bullet to protect him._

**_AARRRRRRRRRRWWWWWOOOOOOOOWWWWW…._**

_That was the **FIRST**, and the **LAST **time, Stiles had ever replied to the howl with his own…_

* * *

Now is when he finally realizes.

All those howls he'd heard.

None of them heard by Kasper, or by anyone else.

Just by _Stiles_.

They had been **_DEREK_**_._

They had been his **_MATE_**, calling for _him_.

And he'd only answered **_ONCE_**_._


	12. Chapter Twelve

**_So I read... and re-read... and re-re-read all the reviews, and was like... 'These guys are awesome! Let's give 'em another chapter!' :D_**

* * *

Melissa had persisted that Stiles stay at her house for the night, saying she didn't feel comfortable with letting him leave and go home in the state he was in. She made him dinner (grilled chicken and coleslaw) and told him how the pack was going; mentioning that they all were in New York for college, some of them wanting to complete their specific courses and get a job in the big city, while some of them already had a job.

Jackson was just about finished in his fifth year of his medical course, aiming to become a surgeon.

Erica had already completed her course a year ago and received a bachelor's in early childhood, having got herself a job as a second year teacher.

Boyd was a mechanic. He'd not wanted to go to college and instead he had decided to go to tafe where he'd completed a course in building and construction. He and Erica were in a relationship and shared an apartment.

Scott and Isaac – as Stiles found out, and accordingly, nearly spat out a mouthful of food over – were actually _mates_, and were now together – _sexually_. They were both living together in an apartment near campus, both in their second year of their courses to become veterinarians.

All that was left was…

"Is Lydia doing a mathematics course?" Stiles asked around a mouthful of coleslaw.

"Yes, in fact she's aiming for a field's medal," Melissa smiled, pouring herself some orange juice. She offered some to Stiles and he smiled, holding out his glass.

"Awesome! I just _know _she's going to get it," he grinned. "I mean, this is _Lydia_ we're talking about here. She's going to win that field's medal and become the best mathematician in the _world_."

Melissa laughed. "I'm sure," then taking a bite of chicken she asked, "What about you, Stiles? You've been to college yet while you were away?"

Stiles shook his head, sighing. "Nah, couldn't really. I had to deal with my... erm – wolfy problems. They kinda took up most of my vacation time," he chuckled.

"I see." Melissa nodded. "Well, what about now? Are you thinking of trying to apply in someplace nearby? I think there's a college a few hours out of town that may be willing to take you in."

"No, it's fine. To be honest, I don't really want to go to college anymore." Stiles played with a bit of chicken on his plate. "I mean, _sure_ it'd be cool and stuff, but I don't think I want to though."

"Uh-huh… and why not?" Melissa frowned, taking another sip of her drink. "You're only 24 and there's still a chance for you to enrol, maybe take up a course you were interested in before you left?"

Stiles looked up from his plate, eyebrows creasing. "Well, I _had _wanted to try out a course in mythology; the creatures and all that stuff? You know?" He laughed a little, shaking his head. "With all the werewolf crap I've been through, I think I could be pretty good at it."

Melissa seemed to think it over. "Yes, well that's an option." Her eyes lit up. "Oh! What about chemistry? You were always getting excellent marks in that. Have you ever thought of trying for a job as a chemistry teacher, maybe at Beacon Hills high?"

Stiles coughed on the mouthful of drink he had just sipped. "What?" He choked, managing to swallow. "A – A chemistry teacher? Like Mr _Harris_?" He gaped.

Melissa shrugged. "Yes. Why not? I think you'd be good at it."

Stiles mulled it over for not only a second before full out snorting. "Stiles shall not be letting his little werewolf ass get involved with chemistry, neither being a chemistry _teacher_." He shuddered. "_No way_. Never, ever, _ever_."

Melissa sighed, finishing the last bite of her chicken. "Still immature, I see. Nothing's changed." Stiles shot her a scowl. "Okay, fine. Hmmmm… Oh! Ever considered about a gym trainer? You've obviously grown some very nice biceps over the time you've been gone, and that shirt you're wearing is _not _doing anything to hide those ripped abs."

Stiles' eyes widened, and he gaped. "M-Ms McCall!"

"What? It's true," Melissa chortled. "You can't say you're not handsome, honey. I'm actually surprised you haven't got a girlfriend or boyfriend yet."

Stiles sighed. "I – I have... kinda…"

"Oh, who's that? He cute?" Melissa smiled.

"Yeah, he – Kasper's gorgeous. Got these _eyes_; like grey but then when he's wolf, sort of electric blue mixed with misty purple." He shook his head. "I don't know… but, just _beautiful_."

If Melissa was shocked about Stiles' partner being a werewolf she didn't show it. "He sounds wonderful honey."

Stiles nodded sadly, sniffling. "Yeah, he was."

"Was?" Melissa took in Stiles' hunched shoulders and teary eyes. Realization dawned on her. "Oh… _oh_ sweetie, come here." She stood up, walking around to the other side of the table and wrapping her arms around him. "What happened?"

Stiles rested his head on Melissa's shoulder, blinking back tears. "Hunters… wolfsbane… he… he saved me… took the bullet for me… died in my arms," he choked.

"Oh my… that's terrible," Melissa whispered, hugging Stiles tighter. "Did he… was it quick?" She couldn't help but ask, feeling bad as soon as the words left her mouth.

Stiles drew in a ragged breath, shaking his head. "No… it drew out. He… he was just… just _lying_ there… in my arms_ dying_… and I couldn't… I couldn't do _anything_… and I… I wanted… wanted to die with him… it… it was the most… most horrible thing I'd ever… ever seen in my entire _life_… and it…. it was all my _fault_," he sobbed.

Melissa shhh'd him, patting his back and letting him cry. What hurt her most was that she'd asked the question, she'd been the one that made him tell her what had happened… she was the one who'd made him cry.

She felt terrible.

* * *

At the Hale house, outside the perimeter, a bright pair of green eyes lit up in the dark shadows. One after the other, more pairs of eyes lit up, some green, some silver, some gold and some even purple.

Next out sounded a loud chorus of hisses, purrs, and yowls.

A giant shadow prowled out from the bushes, figure large and towering, a huge feline…

Until it shifted, body rising taller and taller until, there stood a man.

The man smirked – more like grinned maliciously, eyes flashing a brilliant hue of silver.

The Alpha of the were-cats was here, along with his pack….

And he would kill the wolf who'd murdered his brother.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

"Are you sure you're going to be okay leaving right now?" Melissa frowned.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, I'll be okay. I just - I need to get back. You'll be fine here without me. Plus, dad is probably going to be wondering where I am when he comes home from his shift."

Melissa sighed, and gently placed her hand over Stiles, that was hovering on the door knob. "Are you _sure_? You know, it is okay for you to stay tonight, right? I can call your dad and let him know you're staying here and you can leave tomorrow if it suits you."

Stiles shook his head and smiled. "No, it's okay. I'm sure. I'll have to cook dad some dinner when I get back anyway. Who knows how much junk he's been eating while I've been gone. It's time I started him back on his diet."

"Alright then, if you're sure." She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek before moving back, looking at him in admiration. "I know I said this before, but you've really grown up to be a handsome young man, Stiles. I'm very proud of you, honey. And you should be too."

Stiles could feel the blush creeping into his cheek, turning away and biting his lip. "T-Thanks, Ms McCall. I appreciate it." He let his hand that was on the doorknob twist, opening the door, the cool night air wafting in and giving his skin a slight chill. "I better be going, now. I'll see you tomorrow, maybe."

"Of course. See you tomorrow, Stiles," Melissa said softly.

Ms McCall watched him walk away, arms pulling his brown leather jacket around him as he sidestepped onto the curb. She could see his cheeks tinged slightly pink from a distance and she smiled. "Such a handsome young man. Your mother would be so proud," she whispered.

Stiles, even from a distance, heard it. Werewolf hearing be damned. He sighed, looking down at his feet, tracing the cracks of the pavement with his eyes, and silently reflecting how those cracks felt so much like the ones splitting open in his heart, as he fought back the tears in his eyes.

* * *

Derek was in the living room, sitting on the couch with his sock covered feet propped up on the coffee table, watching television, when he heard the noises resonating from outside. Weird squeaking sounds, like a cat had taken up his door as a scratch post. Which didn't make _any _sense because when the fuck did he get a _cat_? Oh wait... that's right. He _didn't_.

Then there were the yowls, hisses and purrs. Immediate werewolf instincts had him jerking up off from the sofa, fangs growing in his gums and a loud growl bursting from his throat. Something was on his territory. No… more than a something. Those sounds were just too loud to be one individual whatever-it-was.

Derek prowled to the door (prowl mostly being because he wasn't exactly _walking_ more than moving with the grace of a wolf, footsteps silent and brief to not signal his presence) as he let his eyes bleed red, fur sprouting along his sideburns and ears pricking up, trying to hear any changes in the atmosphere, any sounds of movement coming from outside.

That was when the door was ripped off its hinges, shards and splinters of wood flying through the air and the loud _CRASH_ like a bolt of thunder to the Alpha's heightened senses. It was before he could recover from the billowing uproar echoing in his ears, that he was tackled into sharply, weight and force driving him down to the ground in a hard shove.

"Well, well, well. Look at what I got here. A big, scary, _wolf_." The voice was mocking, contradicting and filled with an edge that Derek didn't like.

"Who the _fuck _are you?" He snarled, looking up at the man who had pinned him to the floorboards in a grip too tight to be human.

"Me? Oh, that's not important. What's important is that _you die_," the man hissed, breathing so close to Derek's ear that he could feel the rancid puff of air on his face, could smell its pungent scent that reeked of… _death_. Just the smell of it was like death. Derek's wolf didn't like it and it riled up inside him, chuffing angrily.

"Die for what? I haven't done _anything_," he growled. "And what are you doing on my property? You _do _know that this is Alpha territory, right? I could have you ripped to pieces!"

The man chuckled darkly, sending an involuntary shiver to wrack over Derek's spine. "I'd love to see you even try to take out _half _my pack all on you own. _Boys_!" He whistled, grinning.

Derek had only one second to turn his head, before shadows were forming in the darkness outside, more than half a dozen bright shining eyes lit up as well, all glowing in different shades of colours.

"You see, these are my boys. Good 'ol bunch of were-cats, they are. I don't think they'd be all too kind to you if you – oh, let's say – rip me to pieces," he said, bemusement and a hint of challenge framing his composure, eyes flickering silver. "You see, they all heed to their Alpha _very _nicely."

Derek's ears matted down, hackled rising. An Alpha were-cat. This was _not _good. He let his jaw snap rapidly, growl rumbling low in his throat as the figures took up their place walking through his doorway, all with glowing eyes and lips pulled up in feral snarls.

He couldn't do this. He wouldn't survive, if he did. There were just too many of them for him to fight off on his own. He knew what he had to do. He just hoped that it would work, that _he'd _hear it and realize something was wrong, and come to help him.

Derek closed his eyes, sucking in a huge breath of air into his lungs. He only had the time to howl once, loud and desperate, the force of it ripping from his throat and stinging his vocals from the intensity, before the Alpha were-cat tightened the grip on his throat and the were-cats all charged forward at once, their yowls filling the air.

* * *

**_Next chapter will be a fight. One I hope will be bloody enough to fill your horror needs... XD_**


	14. ALPHA STILES - THIS DESERVED A TITLE

**_This _****_was, like, the most awesome chapter to write EVER! I am a proud writer and I love this chapter so much._**

**_I hope YOU guys like it xD_**

* * *

The road home was pathed in darkness, shadows patching themselves on the pavement like inky black puddles of tar. Every step he made, every footfall on the asphalt felt like an empty echo to his ears, a symphony, a simple yet complicated reminder that he was alone – not only in the literal sense of happening to be walking down the dim lit street with nobody to accompany him – but the sense of it being that he had nobody to care for, and nobody to love him. All of that was taken away from him, snatched away like a kite to a strong wind - and the only person he could put the blame on, was himself.

Derek. That man – that _wolf_. With the eyes that Stiles never could seem to figure out what the colour of them were. Blue? Green? Grey? Brown?_ Hazel_? He doesn't even know. They were just… majestic. An array of colours that variegated so perfectly together, that it made the Alpha's eyes look similar to those of which a fallen angel would possibly have.

If Stiles were to describe them to the best of his ability it would be sort of like this - A golden spiral entwining around the pupil's edges, slowly forming into a verdant emerald abyss that it in itself, singularly absorbed into a dismal amount of cobalt highlights that shone a hypnotic azure sapphire in daylight.

Yes, Stiles had always been known to pay exceedingly trained attention on detail – and the Alpha's eyes were no exception. In fact, the Alpha's entire being was basically the apple to Stiles' trained attention's proverbial eye.

But now, none of that mattered. He and Derek were not associating any more. Not speaking. No communication whatsoever. They were taking a break - so to speak. Well, I suppose if you count forever being alone and in the only solitude that is yourself, 'taking a break.'

He missed the sour wolf, so very much in fact, that he considered going up to the Hale house and basically falling to his knees in front of the Alpha, baring his neck and his pride hand in hand, all to just give into Derek's will of dominance. Then the other part of his mind seeped in, the much darker side, who told him things like 'you don't need that mutt' and 'you're better off without him' and 'he was just dragging you down. Without him you are powerful and strong, a real Alpha.'

Like always, the darker side won, and Stiles forced down the feeling of love for the Alpha wolf and instead of turning around, kept walking, not bothering to hide the gleam of raw intensity in his eyes, the force that shone even brighter than his crimson red Alpha eyes ever could.

He could have made it home, could have forgotten all about Derek that night – if he hadn't of heard that howl.

**_AARRRRRRRRRRWWWWWOOOOOOOOWWWWWOOOOOOO…_**

Stiles stopped walking abruptly, sneakers skidding on the concrete and arms flailing slightly as he turned around on his heels in a very sharp full spin. His eyes instantaneously bled red without him even changing them, fingers tingling as his claws shot out in pointed pricks, fangs sprouting out of his gums in a burst of stinging pain that had him growling high whiningly in his throat.

That had definitely been a howl - _Derek's_ howl. Stiles had heard it too many times for it _not _to be etched completely in his memory.

Somehow, somehow the howl had affected his wolf. It was snarling and roaring inside him, like the waves of an ocean reacting to a fierce storm. He didn't know why, but his wolf was furious – enraged would be more of an appropriate term. The sudden humorous reference to that of the Big Bad Wolf in Little Red Riding Hood seemingly spared Stiles a short second to laugh bitterly at his sarcastic mind and to just forget about the rising beast inside of him that was rearing up, closer and closer to bursting out in complete control, to rendering his conscience into something called 'incapable of working order' and for hot blood boiling rage to take over.

"C'mon, Stiles. Breathe. Just breathe. You can do this. Just – Just picture something peaceful. Yeah, that's it. Peaceful. A lake with calm waters, swirling patterns in spirals of…"

That was Stiles' huge mistake.

The reference to spirals set something alight in his wolf – a mental picture of Derek's eyes and the spiral of golden hue in the Alpha's pupils – and it went wild, snapping and howling.

Stiles barely had any control left, all of it being eaten away by the jaws of the wolf inside him that was chewing away at it, like some sort of barn mouse biting into a piece of rope, the rope slowly becoming thinner and thinner and thinner and thinner… until finally it gave way… and snapped.

* * *

Derek was not putting up a good enough fight – well he was, but the fact that he was facing off against three were-cats at once didn't really help along his active streak of 'winning', which right now was actually pretty much an active streak of 'losing.'

His left arm was hanging at his side, hand twisted at an odd angle, that being plenty of reason for him to believe that his arm was indeed broken and very nearly dismembered, if the huge chunk of flesh missing from his shoulder that should be connecting his arm to his body, was anything to go by. Blood pooled from several deep gashes in his chest, soaking through his shirt, the three wide long strokes that ran down from his breastbone to the beginning of his navel spreading pain throughout his whole body every time he so much as moved.

"You're not going to win, you big mutt. You're practically dead already. Why don't you just roll over and die, huh?" The were-cat who had inflicted the three big abrasions on his chest was barely hurt, only having a bloody nose and a couple nicks and cuts on its arms. It grinned, eyebrows quirking with that mocking statement, giving Derek's wolf just another reason to growl in fury at the disrespect shown.

"Roll over and die?" Derek spat a mouthful of blood at the ground, wincing at the sight of its shade and how it looked so out of place on the dusty floorboards. "Really, that all you got? A lame ass dog joke?" He sidestepped to the right just in time to miss the first were-cat's claws from ripping a fresh new mark into his chest, kicking a foot out and managing to trip the second were-cat who was about to lunge forward at him, knocking it to the ground and ducking, yet again just in time, to dodge the last were-cat's attempt at a full swinged punch.

The first were-cat, the one who had thrown the overly stupid dog joke at him, yowled angrily and charged forward, eyes glowing with an aura of indigo purple. It was able to swipe a well-equipped claw at Derek's torso, shredding through flesh and sinking into the hard plate of bone underneath.

Derek howled, the sharp and sudden pain striking him down to his knees. He let his good hand clutch to the new wound, feeling blood seeping out from in between his fingers, the substance damp and sticky – life that was bleeding out of his body too fast for him to heal.

"Wow. I'm surprised by your obedience, mutt. You successfully accomplished the sitting part. Now all you need to do is roll over… and die." The were-cat gripped Derek's chin, lifting it up so glowing purple could meet slowly dimming hazel.

"N-Never. W-Won't… g-give in," Derek rasped; his breath was shaky and broken, pretty much like his body, rattling around in his chest like in any second it would die out. Every inhale and exhale drove all the pain to his ribcage, like fire it seeped into his lungs, turning breathing into a task that seemed nearly impossible.

"Never is a very long time. I don't believe you even have _a minute_, let alone forever," the were-cat bit back playfully, eyes glinting and fangs poking out from between thin lips that lifted up in a sneer.

"Actually – you're wrong. He has all the time in the fucking world."

Derek gasped, not because of the pain – okay, a little bit because of the pain, but mostly because he knew that voice. It had changed over time, become deeper, huskier. Right now it was dark, sarcasm bitter like salt to an open wound. But not directed to him – and definitely not the added salt to his open wound.

Stiles was standing at his doorway, stance held firm with one foot behind him and one in front, body curved into a position that showed the ripples of shoulder and back muscles when he shaped his stance into more of a challenging focus. The other Alpha's eyes were bright and glowing brighter by the second; blazing crimson ruby irises met his own, forming a hazy sheen of red light to refract in his half darkened vision.

"S-Stiles," he croaked, voice strained and barely spoken as he coughed. He heard, let alone felt the blood drip from his lips and drop onto the ground at his knees.

Derek saw his mate's eyes flicker, red sinking away to melt into its natural beauty, pupils of rich amber ochre – that was before those eyes caught sight of the wounds that littered his body, especially the one his hand was now held over, trying to help contain what was left of his life. Lips pulled back, a snarl ringing through the air along with it; before Derek knew it, eyes that were once mocha shone ember again, this time even brighter.

_"Let him go_._ Now_." Stiles' voice was deeper, darker and throatier, words garbled from behind fangs that were sharp and poised. His stance shifted, foot behind him now settling ahead of the front one, the front one now becoming the back pedal.

The were-cats who he had managed to evade attacks from earlier were suddenly back in business and Derek could hear them hissing vehemently at Stiles, could smell the hatred reeking in their scents – knew that their hatred was directed at his mate who was standing, threateningly and imposing in the doorway of his house.

"Why would we let him go? We have him right where we want him," the were-cat who had him by the throat dug its claws into the skin in his neck, nails twisting inside the thin layers of flesh causing a short yip – like an injured puppy makes – to leave his lips, "right at our disposal."

That was when the scent of hatred mixed with another scent. The other scent was something else, more powerful, and it grew stronger as the seconds ticked by. Derek recognized it as anger – actually it was rage, to be more specific. Rage – full blooded enough for his senses to catch a whiff of it and his wolf to whimper and whine in submission.

And all of it was coming from Stiles.

He saw the exact moment when his mate tensed up, all the muscles in his body quivering, drawing up together so perfectly it gave him an excellent view of every single ripple and flex of what was underneath all that clothing the young man hid behind, even now.

That was before he shifted, though.

Derek couldn't believe his eyes. The were-cats must not have expected it either because there was an onslaught of fear rigged scents wafting through the air, hitting him square in the nose. They were terrified – that was for sure. Derek completely understood why.

Stiles' entire body was contorting; his thin lithe form was bulking up underneath his clothes, giving way to huge muscles. The brown leather jacket he wore was definitely not going to be saved, it was straining from the force of Stiles' shift and before Derek's eyes it tore straight down through the middle, the whole of its material ripping to pieces. Next clothes to go were the jeans Stiles wore, shredding to nothing in no time flat as two large forelegs stood in the place of the nimble limbs that once were.

The were-cats around him were yowling in terror and Derek saw that most of them – including the one who had been holding him by the throat – were running as fast as they could, their bodies shifting into their were-cat forms as they bounded off in all different directions, trying to get away from the Alpha werewolf shifting before them.

Derek was so absorbed in watching the were-cat's hitting tail and dashing away for their life that he didn't realize the minute Stiles had finished shifting – the loud and bracketing howl ripping through the air was the only thing that made him snap his attention back to his mate.

When he did, his wolf stated whimpering and whining.

Stiles was – Stiles was _incredible_. And absolutely terrifying.

The first thing Derek took notice of, the thing that stood out the most, was that Stiles' fur wasn't black like his and Peter's had been. No, it was amber a bit like his eyes. Reddish, tan, bronzed, burgundy, copper – all of the above mixed together. His coat was magnificent and it seemed to milk in the moonlight that shone down from the sky, breaking through the fallen in timber planks of the roof. It gave Stiles' fur a golden glow and the sight melted Derek's eyes, his wolf's whimpering and whining now turning to purrs of approval, prideful and happy and contented that this beautiful specimen of Alpha wolf standing in front of them was their mate.

The next thing Derek noticed was the glowing, pulsing vibrant red eyes that were honed in on something behind him, the face of a fully shifted Alpha that's fangs were huge, jaw snapping as it snarled and growled, claws on its hands scraping together like sharp lethal dinner knives and paws sinking into the earth beneath them, body bending into a stance of attack.

"Awwww. Look at the little _wittle_ angry puppy."

The Alpha were-cat was still here.

Derek sensed the shift in the air right before Alpha Stiles leaped forward. At first Derek was startled, eyes wide as the huge wolf bounded over to him on all fours – but realized just at the last second when a large frosty white were-cat came into view, that Stiles wasn't going after him.

He yelled out, horrified, not being able to bite back the whimper in his throat when the were-cat managed to attack first, its body colliding into Stiles with claws sinking into the Alpha's side. Alpha Stiles howled, giving a full body shake to try and throw the were-cat off but Derek could see that it wasn't letting up, wincing and shutting his eyes when a whine bubbled out – that he knew was Stiles' – as the were-cat dug its claws in deeper.

"Please. God, please Stiles. Win this. _Please_," he begged, not having the strength any more, let alone the guts to open his eyes – afraid that he'd open them just to find the were-cat tearing Stiles to pieces.

There was a lot of noise. Yowls, howls, whines, whimpers and hisses – along with the sounds of bodies being thrown around. Derek didn't even notice but he'd stared trembling, whole body shaking and hands – even his broken one – clenching in and out. His wolf was terrified inside him as they listened to the sounds of the fight around them, the whimpers and whines, and sudden yips which only could be counted as their mate's.

Suddenly there was silence. Something tearing, ripping. A gargled, tortured sound – a sound Derek couldn't decipher to be Stiles or the were-cat. Then a loud, earth shattering howl.

Derek's heart stopped.

"No, no, _no_._ Please_. Please don't let it be Stiles. Not him. No. _Please_ don't let it be Stiles," he stammered, murmuring quiet sobs as his wolf whimpered, high pitched and whiny.

His mate was – _their_ mate was…

"_Whew_. Uh – _wow_. Derek? I – I think I won."

Derek's heart stopped beating – yes, again - for a second time, as he eyes snapped open.

That was... that was his – _their_ mate.

Their mate was _alive_.

Stiles was _okay_.

Stiles was standing there, stark naked, body literally covered in blood, the most of it being smothered around his mouth.

That was when Derek glanced behind Stiles, at the were-cat who was lying on the ground, still in were-cat form with its head – not there.

There was only the body.

No head.

Holy fuck. Stiles had – Stiles had…

"Stiles – you-"

"Yeah. I know," Stiles grinned, eyes flashing red and bloodied fangs glinting. His whole blood splattered body was stunning, all defined muscles and pale skin illuminated under the moonlight that cast down on him. "I ripped its throat out. With my teeth," he winked.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Derek sniffed at the puffs of steam rising from the porcelain bowl held directly in front of his face, nostrils flaring at the strong spice of chicken that assaulted his senses, a sudden feeling of nostalgia growing inside him as his wolf huffed its displeasure. "Get that _away _from me." His nose scrunched up in disgust.

Stiles pouted, fingers that were clasping the spoon's handle swirled the metal utensil around and created swirly patterns in the liquid based sustenance that the bowl in his hand contained inside it. "Don't you like your soup Derek?" He poked at Derek's chest playfully with his other hand.

Derek growled, the sound reverberating in his chest much like an angry purr. "No."

"Awww. Yes you do. You _love_ your soup." He lifted the utensil, collecting the chicken vegetable mix up in a small spoonful, hand slowly drifting forwards towards Derek's mouth. "Open wide, buddy! Here comes the rabbit!" He sang happily, spoon moving in 'slow-mo' pace.

Derek turned his head away quickly in a sharp jerk, chin sticking up, out in the air like a petulant child who refused to be tortured into being fed vegetables. "No."

"Yes, yes!" Stiles let the tip of the spoon prod around Derek's lips, lightly trying to force the Alpha's mouth open. "C'mon Der, can you open for Stiles? I know you want to. You love your soup. You eat it _all _up. Yes you do," he cooed.

"Urgh, _God_. Can you just _shut up_?" Derek groaned, letting his lips capture around the spoon before drawing it into his mouth quickly enough to pull back just as fast, the spoon now empty apart from a tiny trace of saliva. "_There_. Now go away."

Stiles grinned giddily, plopping the spoon back inside the bowl. "See? Now, was that _really _so hard?" He teased.

Derek gave Stiles a glare, eyes darkening and eyebrows narrowing, scrutinizing the young man who so happened to be forcing hot chicken soup down his throat. "Don't," he warned.

Stiles sighed, placing the bowl on the small table beside the bed. "Oh, don't be like that Derek." He shuffled his butt further up onto the mattress, resting his spine against the headboard as he leaned back. "You know I'm just looking out for you," he said softly, turning to face Derek with big doe brown eyes. The effect they had on the Alpha reduced his stormy mood, anger slowly subsiding.

"I know, Stiles." Leaning forward with lips brushing the younger man's in a light caress before trailing up higher, pressing foreheads together where hazel met amber. "Thank you," he whispered, sincerely.

Stiles smiled softly, closing his eyes, leaning forward slowly from against the headrest. "I was scared, you know," he murmured, rubbing his nose against Derek's cheek. "I may not have looked like it, but I was fucking terrified." He shuddered, a shaky breath tearing through his chest. "You – You were so hurt, Derek. Those things had totally messed you up. There was too much blood and – and you were barely conscious. For a _split_second I thought – I thought you were going to die," he choked, shoulders shaking in a silent sob. "You _could _have died, Derek."

"Hey, hey. _Shhhh_, _shhhh_, it's okay. I'm here, Stiles. I'm not dead." Derek placed a gentle hand on the side of Stiles' face, thumb rubbing soothing circles just the under the cheekbone.

Stiles chuckled, though it sounded more like a rasped bubble of air that had left his mouth too soon. "Yeah. Then you were okay. Deaton fixed you up and he said that you were going to be fine. I – I collapsed, just couldn't hold myself up anymore. For a little while I thought that it was from the fight, you know? That it had taken its toll on me and my body was tired from all the exertion," he laughed, even this one sounded not at all right for his voice at that moment. "But then… then I remembered that I was a werewolf – an _Alpha _– and that exertion couldn't of been the reason I'd fallen. That it's _wasn't _the reason."

Derek watched as Stiles opened his eyes and saw the tears that made brown orbs look like molten honey, each tear a drip of sweet despair that the Alpha couldn't bear to see – just wanted to lick them all up and stop his mate from crying.

Stiles himself looked into Derek eyes, tears obstructing his vision, view of hazel instead more like pools of murky water. "It was because of you," he rasped, throat closing up around his words. "That even after me leaving town, even after me coming back _years _later and you plain blatant ignoring me, _even _after me jacking you off and you denying me – the thought of losing you literally made me just want to drop to ground and never get up again… that living my life without you just – just wasn't even worth the _effort_. I love you, Derek. And – And it kills me inside to think of a world without you in it, a world without my _mate _there to be here for me and to keep me grounded, to cuddle and kiss me and tell me that I'm b-beautiful and that no matter what I do, no matter what I _say_… that – that I'll always be cared f-f-for."

By the time Stiles was finished talking, he was shaking and Derek had taken the younger man into his arms. The Alpha rocked the sobbing form back and forth, the gentle sways and hushed words whispered calming his distressed mate. Slowly the sobs quietened themselves to tiny sniffles; ragged, broken and shaky breaths filled the silence and Derek's grip tightened as he closed his eyes, pulling Stiles closet to his chest.

In that moment all they needed was the warm, close and loving touch of each other; a sensation that ran deep within their veins, letting their inner wolves know that their mate was with them, safe and sound… for all eternity.

* * *

**_So I was going to end this story with a sex scene but then the fluffy part of my muse took over and said 'YOU MUST MAKE ENDING SAPPY AND CUTE STEREK!' So... that part obviously won out. Tee hee!_**

**_I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is, by far my most favourite story I have written and I am glad to have finally finished it._**

**_There may be some future one-shots connected to this (also sexy times *cough* sexy times *cough*) so I hope you all look out for those._**

**_Well, thank you again for taking part in this journey with me. I look forward to writing for you again :3_**

**_Michelle xoxo_**


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